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THE  UNIVERSITY  OF 

NORTH  CAROLINA 

LIBRARY 


THE  WILMER  COLLECTION 

OF  CIVIL  WAR  NOVELS 

PRESENTED  BY 

RICHARD  H.  WILMER,  JR. 


THROUGH 


WAR  TO  PEACE 


BY  BENJAMIN  F.  MASON, 

Author  of  tlie  "Village  Mystery,"  or  "  The  Spectres  of  St.  Arlyle. 


PUBLISHED  FOR  THE  AUTHOR. 
1891 . 


-'--::»t^ 


JL/^ 


Entered  according    to  Act  of    Congress,    in    the 
the  year   iSgr,  by 

I^.  F.  MASON, 

In  the  Office  of  the    Librarian  of  Congress,   at 
Washington. 


^st^- 


(fe/^W^ 


~*l^5,£^ 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE  BATTLE   OP   BULL   KUN,  OR   MANASSAS. 

CHAPTER  II. 

THE  KETREAT   FKOM   THE   FIELD   OF   MANASSAS. 

CHAPTER   III. 

THE   soldier's  LAST  WATCH. 

CHAPTER  IV. 

THE   OLD    ENEMY   AGAIN. 

CHAPTER  V. 

A    NEMESIS   ON    HIS   TRACK. 

CHAPTER  VI. 

JUSr   IN   THE  NICK   OF   TIME. 

CHAPTER  VII. 

THE  BATTLE  OF   CHANCELLORSVILLE. 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

AT     REST     AT     LAST. 

CHAPTER  IX. 

THF.   BATTLE   OF    GETTYSBURG. 

CHAPTER  X. 

THE  CLOSE  OF  THE  BATTLE  OF  GETTYSBURG. 

CHAPTER  XI. 

THE   STRUGGLE   "WITH   DEATH. 

CHAPTER  XII. 

AT    REST   IN    HEAVEN, 


694198 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

NEABING    THE    END. 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

THE    DAWN    OP    PEACE. 

CHAPTER   XV. 

THE   liAST    REVIEW    OP    THE    ARMY    OP    THE    POTOMAC. 

CHAPTER  XVI. 

SAD  AND  SWEET  MEMORIES. 

CHAPTER  XVII. 

THE   VANDAIi    CONGRESS    ONCE    AGAIN. 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 

THE   VANDAIi   CONGRESS  CONTINUED. 

CHAPTER  XIX. 

HOME  AGAIN   IN   ST.    ARLYLE. 

*  CHAPTER   XX. 

UNDER    THE   LIGHT   OF    PEACE. 


Through  War  To  Peace: 


* 


* 


A    SEQUEL    TO 


The  Village  Mystery. 


BY     BENJAMIN    F.    MASON. 


CHAPTEK  I. 

THE  BATTLE  OP   BULIi   KUN,    OE   MANASSAS. 

m  BHEN  shook  the  hills  with  thunder  riven, 
1  *  Then  rushed  the  steeds  to  battle  driven, 

J       And  louder  than  the  bolts  of  heaven 
'  Far  flashed  the  red  artillery. 

—  Campbell, 

T  was  a  calm,  beautiful  Sunday  morning,  on   the  2]st  of  June, 

f'  1861 ;  the  sun  arose  in  all  its  splendor  and  threw  its  bright  rays 
down   on   the   glens,  woods,  and  clear  bubbling  streams  of  the 
Plain  of  Manassas ;  while  far  away  in   the  distance,   robed  in 
,,  _       their  azure  hue,  stood  the  tall   summits  and  pinnacles  of  the 
Blue  Ridge,  guarding,  like  sentinels,  around  a  field  of  death  ! 
But  ere  long,  ever  and  anon,  the  calm  was  broken   by  the  roar 
of  artillery,  and  white  wreaths  of  emoke  were  seen  ascending  from  the 
cannon's  mouth,  into  the  clear,  blue  sky  above  the  two  long,  glittering  lines 
of  the  contending  ai-mies,  telling  of  the  fearful  struggle  soon  to  begin ! 

It  was  the  battle  field  of  Bull  Bun,  the  first  great,  bloody  conflict  of  the 
Civil  War,  Side  by  side,  the  men  stood  in  the  long,  gleaming  lines  of  battle, 
waiting  for  the  orders  to  rush  forward  into  the  vortex  of  death !  And 
standing  there  in   that  short  interval — with  thoughts   flashing  over  their 


2  THBOUGH   WAR    TO    PEACE. 

minds  as  thick  as  waves  on  an  ocean  beach — ere  they  met  amid  the  awful 
clash  of  arms,  many  a  soldier's  thouglits  were  wandering  far  away  to  Noith- 
ern  and  Southern  cities  and  villages,  where  friends  and  loved  ones  were 
answering  the  Sabbath  bells' sweet  peal  of  love  and  peace;  and  many  a 
soldier  in  his  imagination  could  see  dearly  loved  ones  walking  up  the  old 
familiar  church  steps,  that  he  knew  so  well,  but  that  perhaps  he  would 
never  see  again  ;  for  before  that  Sabbath  sunlight  faded  into  night  many  a 
one  would  be  called  to  "join  that  silent  number  in  the  land  whence  none 
return  !  " 

The  St.  Arlyle  regiment  arrived  on  the  field  the  evening  before  the  Vjattle, 
and  had  been  assigned  to  General  Hunter's  division,  one  of  the  first  bodies 
to  become  engaged  on  the  following  morning.  There  had  been  during  the 
day  several  severe  but  short  engagements  between  the  advance  skirmishers 
of  the  two  armies,  but  they  had  now  fallen  back  on  the  main  bodies,  and  all 
was  again  quiet.  But  it  was  but  the  lull  before  the  great  struggle  on  the 
morrow ! 

It  was  a  beautiful  night;  the  moon  was  full,  and  shed  a  soft,  mollow 
light  down  from  a  cloudless  sky,  while  not  a  breath  of  wind  ruffled  the 
gleaming  surface  of  the  rippling  streams,  or  rustled  the  leaves  of  the 
surrounding  forest,  arrayed  in  all  the  brightness  of  a  mid-summer's  night, 
wiiile  in  every  directioq  thousands  of  camp-fires  glared  forth,  throwing 
weird   fautastic  shadows  against  the  thick  foliage  of  the  trees. 

Around  one  of  the  numerous  camp-fires  a  party  of  Vandals  were  collected, 
discussing  the  impending  battle. 

"  Well,"  said  Ned  Stanton,  "we'll  have  a  lively  time  to-morrow.  Some  of 
us  will  have  to  do  a  good  deal  of  dodging  to  save  our  skulis." 

"Yah,"  said  Blowhard  Jake,  "bud  by  Shimmany!  von't  ve  mak  dem 
llL'bil  runs !" 

"Lo'^k  out  they  don't  make  you  run,"  said  another  Vandal. 

"  Not  much  dey  von't !  "  • 

"I  don't  know  about  that,"  said  Gleaton,  "some  of  you  fellows  will  want 
to  go  home  mighty  bad  when  the  Eebel  bullets  are  whistling  around  your 
ears.     And  then  fight  the  rest  of  the  war  wk,h  your  jaws,  in  the  tailor  shop." 

"Well,"  said  the  Pirate,  with  his  usual  nonchalance,  "we'll  take  a  few 
shots  at  'em  f hirst,  ahnyhow,  just  to  kape  things  loively,  afore  we  lave." 

Thus  the  conversation  ran  on,  for  most  of  them  slept  but  little  that  night, 
and  eagerly  they  responded  to  the  rolling  of  the  drums  ere  daylight  broke 
on  Sunday  morning.  Then  followed  a  rapid  march,  until  they  could  see  the 
enemy's  forces  in  the  distance,  when  a  short  halt  was  ordered.  Here  we 
have  already  described  them,  waiting  for  the  final  order  to  move  on  to  the 
attack. 

Between  the  two  armies  floM'ed  the  Bull  Kun  stream,  and  at  a  considerable 
distance  from  it,  on  the  summit  of  the  ridges,  gently  sloping  to  the  plain, 
were  posted  the  Confederate  forces,  nearly  three  miles  in  length.  Almost 
opposite  the  enemy's  center  was  a  stone  bridge,  spanning  the  stream,  which 
was  guarded  by  a  Confederate  regiment. 

It  was  planned  by  the  Federal  commander.  General  McDowell,  that  a 
feint  attack  should  be  made  on  the  bridge  by  one  of  the  divisions,  while  the 


THROUGH    WAR   TO   PEACE.  0 

two  others,  of  Heintzieman  and  Hunter  (the  latter  containing  the  St.  Arljle 
ref,'in]ent),  were  to  make  a  detour  through  the  tlilcli  woods,  and  fall  upon  the 
eiii'iny's  flank  and  rear. 

The  battle  began  a  few  minutes  after  six  o'clock,  by  the  discharge  of  a  shell 
from  a  mortar  in  the  direction  of  the  regiment  guarding  the  stone  bridge. 
Then  followed  a  rapid  cannonade  from  both  sides,  but  the  Union  forces  did 
not  advance  to  drive  the  regiment  from  the  bridge,  but  remained  firing  at 
long  range,  as  their  desire  was  to  attract  the  enemy's  attention,  while  the 
two  divisions  pushed  through  the  thick  forest. 

But  the  Confederates  were  on  the  alert,  and  before  long  they  became 
aware  that  a  lar,u;e  body  of  men  were  pressing  through  the  dense  forest 
toward  their  left  and  in  their  rear.  They  immediately  wheeled  around  and 
formed  a  new  and  stronger  line — as  it  was  on  elevated  ground,  and  partly 
sheltered  by  the  houses,  barns,  sheds,  haystacks  and  fences  of  a  farm 
situated  there — and  at  the  same  time  rapidly  reinforcing  the  line  to  meet  the 
attack  of  the  Federals. 

Meanwhile,  the  divisions  having  forded  the  Bull  Run  stream,  and  filled 
theii  canteens  with  water,  were  pressing  on  as  rapidly  through  the  woods  as 
the  tangled  vines  and  thick  undergiowth  would  permit.  But  their  progress 
was  so  retanled  that  it  was  ten  o'clock  before  the  advance  brigade  reached 
the  open  field. 

Among  the  first  troops  to  reach  the  edge  of  the  wood  was  Landon's  regi- 
ment, and  as  they  came  into  the  open  ground  they  were  received  with  a 
perfect  storm  of  cannon  balls  and  bullets  from  the  enemy's  elevated  position. 
The  severe  fire  for  a  few  moments  made  the  raw  troops  recoil,  as  the  dead 
and  wounded  fell  around  them,  but  they  were  pressed  forward  by  those  in 
the  rear,  and  were  soon  rushing  up  the  rising  ground,  sharply  replying  to 
the  enemy's  fire,  while  several  batteries  of  artillery  had  emerged  from  the 
wood  and  were  firing  over  their  heads  with  telling  effect  on  the  Confederates. 

"  Bejabers!"  exclaimed  Kelly,  wildly,  "it's  extramely  loively  !  An' thar 
aint  mouch  fun  fightiu'  Ribils !" 

"No,"  replied  his  comrade,  also  a  Vandal,  "I'd  rather  be  back  in  the 
tailor  shop." 

"  Dunder  und  blitzon  !"  yelled  Jake,  "dey  mights  hit  somebodies  in  der 
eye !" 

"Put  yer  eyes  in  yer  phocket!"  answered  the  Pirate. 

"Shiver  me  timbers!"  cried  Sailor  Jack,  as  he  glanced  down  the  line,  "ef 
the  boys  aint  fallin'  overboard  lively  !" 

They  were  now  in  the  hottest  part  of  the  battle,  and  there  was  no  longer 
any  time  for  words,  as -they  pressed  rapidly  up  the  hillside,  firing  volley 
after  volley  at  the  Confederate  ranks,  while  bullets  and  balls  went  plowing 
through  their  own.  Each  moment  fresh  companies  of  troops  emerged  from 
the  wood  and  rushed  up  the  gentle  slope,  till  the  Confederate  commander, 
Evans,  was  on  the  pomt  of  falling  back,  when  he  was  reinforced  by  Gen. 
Bee's  division.  The  National  forces  were  now  sorely  pressed,  but  they  were 
rapidly  supported  and  their  line  greatly  strengthened.  The  battle  \iow 
raged  desperately,  the  air  was  filled  with  bullets,  cannon  balls  and  shells ; 
the  dead  and  wounded   lay  thick  on  the  field,  while  the  roar  of  the  firearms 


4  THROUGH   WAR   TO    PEACE. 

was  almost  deafening.  Although  the  enemy,  from  his  elevated  position, 
was  doing  terrible  execution — especially  with  his  artillei-y — ^on  the  National 
line,  the  rapid  reinforcement  of  the  latter  was  slowly  pressing  his  lines 
back.  Just  at  this  time  the  Federals  were  again  reinforced  by  Sherman's 
brigade,  and  the  Confederates  could  resist  no  longer  and  began  a  retreat. 
Over  the  ridge  and  down  the  southern  slope  of  a  small  valley  the  Confeder- 
ates fled,  but  in  good  order,  as  they  were  aided  in  the  retreat  by  Hampton's 
famous  legion,  which  had  just  arrived  on  the  field.  Across  the  valley  they 
rushed,  and  up  a  gentle  slope  leading  to  a  large  plateau  above,  closely  fol- 
lowed by  tlieir  pursuers. 

Cheers  broke  from  the  Federal  lines,  as  they  considered  the  victory  com- 
plete, and  the  commanders  were  already  congratulating  each  other,  when 
suddenly  an  incident  of  determination  and  valor  occurred,  that  turned  the 
tide  of  victory. 

As  the  flying  troops,  under  General  Bee,  reached  the  brow  of  the  plateau 
there  stood  a  brigade  drawn  up  in  line  of  battle,  seemingly  as  immovable 
as  the  rocks  themselves,  watting  for  the  coming  struggle.  At  its  head  sat 
a  commander  whose  name  became  famous  on  many  a  bloody  field  in  after 
years.     It  was  Gen.  T.  J.  Jackson. 

General  Bee  rode  up  to  the  tall  Virginian,  who  sat  on  his  horse  with  a 
face  like  marble,  and  exclaimed,  with  despair  imprinted  on  every  line  of  his 
face :  "  General,  they  are  beating  us  back  !  " 

"Then,  sir,"  answered  Jackson,  calmly,  "we'll  give  them  the  bayonet!'* 

The  words  sent  a  thrill  of  hope  through  the  disheartened  Bee,  and  turning 
to  his  men,  he  exclaimed  :  "  There  are  Jackson  and  his  Virginians  standing 
like  a  stone  ivall ! " 

And  ever  after  he  was  known  as  Stonewall  Jackson. 

Although  the  Confederates  had  been  driven  up  the  hill  to  the  plateau 
above,  Jackson's  stubborn  resistance  here  held  the  Federals  in  check,  while 
the  former  weie  rapidly  reinforced  with  infantry  and  artillery,  and  took  up  a 
strong  position  on  the  brow,  sheltered  by  the  thicket  of  pines.  Up  these  hill- 
sides, against  this  strong  Hue,  the  Federals  hurled  brigade  after  brigade,  till 
the  slopes  were  black  with  men.  It  was  now  afternoon,  and  the  heat  was 
intense.  The  battle  raged  fiercely,  the  roar  of  the  conflict  was  terriflc,  as 
the  cannons  belched  forth  their  thunder,  mingled  with  the  crash  of  the  mus- 
ketry, the  heavy  tramp  of  the  cavalry,  the  screams  and  groans  of  the 
wounded,  and  the  shrill  shriek  of  the  bursting  shell.  The  air  was  thick 
with  dust  and  smoke,  completely  hiding  the  combatants  from  each  other,  as 
if  struggling  in  a  mist,  while  red  flashes  of  flame  darted  high  into  the  air 
above  the  pandemonium  of  death  and  destruction.  The  Confederates  were 
inferior  in  numbers  to  the  attacking  forces,  but  they  had  by  far  the  advantage, 
in  their  elevated  position,  and  the  cover  afforded  by  the  pine  trees.  And 
from  the  elevation  the  Confederates  poured  a  raking  artillery  fire  into  the 
advancing  masses.  But  on  the  National  soldiers  came,  every  moment 
pressing  the  enemy  harder.  At  last  the  critical  moment  had  arrived.  The 
loss  had  been  severe  on  both  sides.  Though  the  Federals  had  not  broken 
the  enemy's  line,  the  latter's  situation  had  now  become  desperate.  Every 
one  of  their  available  men  had  long  since  been  hurried  to  the  heart  of  the 


THROUGH    W^AR   TO   PEACE.  5 

struggle,  while  on  the  National  side  fresh  troops  were  already  hurrying  to 
the  front.  The  Confederate  generals  Bee  and  Baxter  had  been  killed,  Jack- 
son and  Hampton  wounded. 

"Oh,  for  a  brigade  !"  cried  the  Confederate  commander  to  a  staff  olBeer. 

At  this  period,  to  add  to  General  Beauregard's  despair,  telegraphic 
signals  warned  him  to  look  out  for  a  body  of  troops  advancing  on  his  left. 

"At  this  mijraent,"  said  G-en.  Beauregard  in  mentioning  the  occurrence 
afterward,  "  I  must  confess  my  heart  failed  me." 

It  was  a  strong  column  of  men,  and  at  their  head  was  a  flag,  but  Beaure- 
gard could  not  tell,  even  through  a  strong  field  glass,  whether  it  was  the 
stars  and  bars  or  the  stars  and  stripes. 

A  look  of  despair  and  sadness  swept  over  the  Confederate  General's  face, 
as  he  turned  to  an  officer  and  ordered  him  to  hasten  to  General  Johnston  and 
request  him  do  what  he  could  to  support  and  protect  a  retreat. 

Again  Gen.  Beauregard  fixed  one  last  lingering  gaze  through  his  field-glass 
upon  the  advancing  flag,  but  he  could  not  distinguish  it,  as  it  hung  limply 
around  the  staff.  But,  just  as  he  was  lowering  his  spy-glass,  a  gentle  breeze 
sprang  up,  and  slowly,  steadily,  the  bar.ner  unfolded  and  floated  full  out  on 
the  warm  air.  It  was  the  stars  and  bars  !  Instantly  the  Confederate 
General's  face  lighted  up  with  triumph  and  pleasure,  as  he  cried  exultantly 
to  a  staff  officer  : 

"Col.  Evans,  ride  forward  and  order  Gen.  Kirby  Smith  to  hurry  up  his 
command,  and  strike  them  on  the  flank  and  rear!" 

The  advancing  troops,  under  Kirby  Smith,  were  a  part  of  Johnston's 
army  from  the  Shenandoah  Valley,  that  had  eluded  the  Federal  General, 
Patterson,  who  was  to  have  held  them  in  check.  They  were  moving  toward 
Manassas  Junction  by  railway,  when  Kirby  Smith,  hearing  the  heavy  firing, 
knew  that  a  great  battle  was  in  progress.  So  he  stopped  the  engine  before 
reaching  the  Junction,  and,  forming  his  men,  pushed  forward  to  the  struggle. 

The  fresh  command  struck  the  National  troops  full  on  the  right  flank,  ere 
they  could  forn;i  a  new  line.  For  a  few  moments  the  Union  right  fought 
desperately,  but  their  efforts  were  in  vain.  Flanked  and  under  a  terrible 
cross  fire,  they  were  forced  to  fall  back,  slowly  at  first,  then  more  rapidly. 
As  the  Federals  saw  their  right  wing  fall  back  in  confusion,  th*;  cry  rapidly 
went  along  the  line  : 

"  Here's  Johnston  from  the  "Valley  !  Here's  Johnston  from  the  Valley  !'' 
And  in  a  few  minutes  the  entire  army  began  to  retreat,  and  then  broke  into 
a  wild  rout.     The  battle  was  lost. 


CHAPTER   II. 

THE   KETKEAT    FROM   THE  BATTLE   FIELD    OF    MANASSAS. 

jtOR  those  t'Jat  fly  may  fight  agaiu, 
CSi     Which  he  can  never  do  that's  slain; 
Hence  timely  running's  no  mean  part 
Of  conduct  In  the  martial  art. 

—Butler. 

MOXG  the  few  regiments  that  retained  their  order,  and  re- 
mained firm  to  the  last,  was  tlie  St. 
Arlyle  one.  But  at  last,  far  out- 
numbered by  the  enemy,  and  each 
moment  being  cut  through  by  their 
own  fugitive  infantry  and  artillery, 
they  were  forced  to  scatter  in  every 
direction.  Gleaton's  company 
formed  a  part  of  the  extreme  left 
of  the  regiment,  and,  unlikt."  the 
rest  of  the  command,  was  unpro- 
tected by  the  bushes  and  under- 
growth ;  therefore  was  the  first  to 
be  overrun  by  the  flying  artillery 
and  cavalry.  Helter  skelter  his 
men  fled  to  escape  the  wheels  of 
the  cannons  and  the  hoofs  of  the 
horses.  Gleaton  soon  found  him- 
self, to  use  his  own  expression,  "in  command  of  him  self  only."  He  ran 
on  for  quite  a  distance,  till  he  came  to  a  clump  of  bushes — ^where  another 
Vandal  had  already  taken  refuge — when  he  sprang  behind  them.  But  ere 
long  the  enemy's  bullets  began  to  whistle  thick  around  their  heads,  and  it 
got  by  far  too  hot  to  be  comfortable,  as  Gleaton  remarked  to  his  companion, 
laugliingly  : 

"  'As  custom  arbitrates,  whose  shifting  sway 
Our  lives  and  manners  must  alike  obey.' 
So  I  guess  we'd  better  run  away." 

But  Gleaton  was  a  little  too  late  in  this  movement,  for  before  he  could 
reach  the  open  ground  he  was  captured  by  two  Confederates,  who,  seizing 
him  by  each  arm,  led'  him  rapidly  through  the  thicket  toward  their  lines. 
But  as  they  were  emerging   from  the  undergrowth  with  their  prisoner  they 


THROUGH    WAR   TO  PEACE.  7 

were  suddenly  met  by  a  flying  piece  of  artillery,  which  knocked  one  of 
the  Confederates  down,  while  the  other  and  Gleaton  had  just  time  to  spring 
out  of  its  way.  Finding  himself  free,  Gleaton  sprang  quickly  forward,  just 
as  the  muzzle  of  the  gun  was  passing,  and,  seizing  hold  of  it,  with  a  strong 
effort  swung  himself  up  on  the  breech,  where  he  clung  desperately,  as  he 
yelled  at  the  discomfited  Confederate : 

"  '  Fare  thee  well !  yet  think  awhile 
On  one  whose  bosom  bleeds  to  doubt  thee  ! ' " 
The  soldier  also  proved  to  be  a  wit,  for  he  replied  in  the  words  of  Pope  : 
"  I  hold  sage  Homer's  rule  the  best, 
Welcome  the  coming,  speed  the  going  guest !  " 
And,   by  way  of  emphasizing  his  words,  he  fired  point  blank  at   Gleaton, 
but,  luckily  for  the  ex-blacksmith,  the  ball  went  wide  of  its  mark. 

Let  us  now  turn  to  Marshall.  When  his  men  scattered  and  left  him  alone, 
he  started  to  run  rapidly  toward  the  rear,  when  he  was  halted  by  the 
enemy,  who  had  nearly  surrounded  him. 

"Surrender!"  shouted  one  of  the  Confederates,  "you're  our  prisoner!" 
"Ah!  yes,  indeed;  I've  been  looking  for  someone  to  surrender  to,"  he 
exclaimed,  as  he  threw  up  his  arms. 

But  at  the  same  time,  seeing  an  opening  in  the  underbrush,  he  popped 
into  it,  as  he  remarked  in  his  usual  reckless  manner : 

"  The  mouse  that  always  trusts  to  one  poor  hole 
Can  never  be  a  mouse  of  any  soul !" 
But  he  did  not  escape  without  a  volley  of  harmless  bullets  following  him. 
At  least  they  were  harmless  so  far  as  he  was  concerned,  for  none  of  them 
struck  him.  He  ran  through  the  thicket,  and  near  its  edge  finding  a  dis- 
abled baggage  wagon,  he  cut  a  mule  loose  from  the  traces,  and  mounting 
him,  started  "to  leave  the  field,"  as  he  afterward  said,  "as  a  cavalryman,"' 
but,  the  mule  not  going  fast  enough,  he  struck  him,  when  the  animal 
suddenly  stopped,  and,  rearing  up  behind,  the  ex-editor  shot  over  his  head, 
or,  as  Marshall  afterward  told  it  in  rhyme  : 

"I  seized  and  mounted  a  black  artillery  mule, 

Made  up  my  mind  that  he  or  I  must  rule ; 
But  as  I  raised  the  whip  o'er  his  left  ear, 
The  mule  raised  up  his  heels  and  shed  a  muleteer  I  " 
The  rest  of  the  way  the  ex-editor  pursued  on  foot.     For,  as  he  remarked, 
he  didn't  wish  to  ride  mules,  as  he  "didn't  understand  their  nature."      Be- 
sides,  he  didn't  like  the   "feeling"   way  the  animal  had  of  "shedding  a 
muleteer!"     "It  sort  of  annihilated,  kind  of  Vandalized  a  fellow." 

Another  Vandal,  who  was  tardy  in  "beating"  a  retreat,  was  Sailor 
Jack.  And,  being  far  behind  the  rest,  he  became  confused,  and  ran  in  the 
wrong  direction — toward  the  enemy's  lines.  As  he  subsequently  expressed 
it,  "  he  got  befogged  and  went  sailing  around  on  a  dead  reckoning." 

At  last  he  became  surrounded  by  the  Confederates  in  nearly  every  direc- 
tion, and  the  bullets  whistling  around  his  head  as  thick  as  hail  on  a  winter's 
day. 


8  THROUGH    W^AE   TO   PEACE, 

"Shiver  me  timbers!  "  he  exclaimed,  "ef  there's  much  chance  to  go  fore 
or  aft.  So  I  guess  I'll  take  a  starboard  tack,"  he  continued,  as  he  fled  into 
a  neighboring  wood. 

Of  all  the  Vandals,  only  one  was  severely  wounded.  That  was  Jim  Kelly, 
though  several  others  received  slight  bruises,  though  not  bad  enough  to 
necessitate  their  entering  the  hospital.  But  poor  Kelly  had  received  a 
dangerous  gash  in  the  side,  and  had  just  strength  enough  left  to  crawl  be- 
hind a  tree,  before  he  swooned  away  from  the  loss  of  blood.  Here  he  was 
found  the  next  day,  and  carried  to  the  hospital  by  a  number  of  Vandals,  who 
had  gone  out  in  search  of  him. 

"  Be  jabers,  boys,"  said  he,  between  his  groans  of  pain,  as  they  raised  him 
on  the  stretcher,  "they  kum  mighty  near  sinkin'  this  pirate.  They  put  an 
awful  big  howl  in  'er  side." 

Of  the  remaining  Vandals,  Frank  Meredith  and  Dave  Johnson  were  taken 
prisoners,  or,  as  Gleaton  remarked,  "the  Rebels  borrowed  them  for  awhile." 

But  there  was  one  Vandal  the  "Rebels''  did  not  "borrow"' or  shoot.  True, 
he  did  not  give  them  much  of  a  chance  to  do  either — that  was  Blowhard 
Jake.  Almost  at  the  first  fire  his  courage  "oozed  out,"  so  to  speak,  and  he 
took  French  leave.  As  he  was  starting  toward  the  rear  one  of  the  ofQcers 
ordered  him  back,  but  this  only  accelerated  his  motion. 

"Never  mind  him,"  remarked  Marshall,  "he's  only  going  off  to  catch  his 
breath." 

But  it  took  Jake  a  long  while  to  "catch  his  breath,"'  for  he  did  not  stop 
retreating  until  he  got  back  to  St.  Arlyle,  and  he  never  returned,  for  he  had 
enough  of  war  for  the  rest  of  his  life. 

"  Dunder  und  blitzen ! "  he  used  to  exclaim,  in  speaking  of  the  battle 
afterward,  "dem  Rebils  mights  er  hit  er  feller  in  der  eye !" 

He  seemed  to  have  a  great  respect  for  his  eyes. 

As  Marshall  ran  onward,  after  being  so  unceremoniously  dismounted  from 
the  mule,  he  overtook  Gleaton,  who  was  also  journeying  along  on  foot,  hav- 
ing tumbled  off  his  seat  on  the  cannon. 

"  Hello,  Captain  Marshall  !"  exclaimed  the  latter,  emphasizing  the  word 
"Captain,"  "why  don't  you  rally  your  men,  and  make  a  brave  stand  and  turn 
the  tide  of  battle?  " 

"Ah,"  replied  the  ex-editor, 

"  My  tongue  within  my  lips  I  rein, 
For  who  talks  much  must  talk  in  vain," 

"  But  why  don't  you,  Captain  Gleaton?  " 

"I  have  given  a  very  good  command,  and  I  think  they'll  obey  it.  It's 
found  in  Shakespeare,  and  it  is:  'Sweep  on,  you  fat  and  greasy  citizens.' 
But  what  do  you  think  of  things  in  general,  Marshall?" 

"  They  seem  to  be  mixed ;  in  fact,  sort  of  annihilated,  kind  of  Vandalized." 

At  this  moment  they  came  upon  a  mounted  officer,  who  was  making  a 
buncombe  speech  to  the  flying  men,  urging  them  to  rally  and  drive  back 
the  enemy.  But  all  the  while  the  officer's  horse's  head  was  turned  toward 
the  rear,  and  the  warrior  himself  was  every  few  seconds  casting  furtive 
glances  toward  the  enemy,  so  as  to  be  ready  to  flee  at  a  moment's  notice  of 
danger. 


THROUGH    WAR   TO   PEACE.  9 

"Fine  words;  I  wonder  where  he  stole  'em,"  exclaimed  Gleaton,  just  as 
the  officer  rode  away  at  full  speed  toward  the  rear  as  he  caught  sight  of 
Stewart's  Confederate  cavalry  in  the  far  distance. 

"That  fellow,"  said  Marshall,  as  he  watched  him  disappear,  "has  mistaken 
his  calling.     He  was  made  for  an  orator,  not  a  warrior." 

The  rout  had  now  turned  into  a  panic.  All  kinds  of  encumbrances  had 
been  thrown  away.  The  field  was  strewn  with  muskets,  belts,  knapsacks 
and  every  conceivable  kind  of  baggage  and  article,  while  the  huge,  surging 
mass,  without  form  or  order,  rushed  on  to  Centerville,  and  from  there  to 
Washington.  In  this  huge,  chaotic  crowd,  mingling  with  the  soldiers,  were 
citizens,  members  of  Congress,  governors  and  various  other  State  officials 
and  their  wives,  who  were  now  ail  fleeing  for  dear  life,  some  in  carriages, 
others  on  foot,  leaving  behind  them  elegant  lunches  and  forgotten  speeches, 
which  they  had  intended  tc  make  over  a  glorious  victory. 

As  Gleaton  and  Marshall  hurried  onward  they  passed  a  group  of  soldiers 
surrounding  a  large  table  cloth,  on  which  was  spread  some  flown  Congress- 
man's banquet,  of  savory  dishes  and  bottles  of  wine.  They  would  hardly 
have  noticed  the  cluster  of  men  had  they  not  heard  their  names  called. 
Looking  toward  the  impromptu  banqueters,  they  saw  two  Vandals  seated 
in  their  midst,  helping  themselves  to  the  wine  and  other  good  things,  per- 
fectly regardless  of  the  enemy's  bullets. 

"Come  on,  Marshall !  Come,  Gleaton  !"  they  shouted.  "  There's  a  mighty 
good  spread-out  here  !     The  best  you  ever  saw  in  your  life  !" 

"Look  out,"  answered  Gleaton,  "the  Rebels  don't  borrow  you." 

"Oh,  confound  the  Rebels  !  this  is  a  Vandal  lay-out !" 

But  they  were  shortly  afterward  interrupted  in  their  revelry  by  their  Col- 
onel, Charlie  Landon,  who  compelled  them  to  move  onward.  During  the 
battle  Charlie  had  set  his  men  a  brave  example,  for  he  had  rushed  to  every 
part  of  his  line,  regardless  of  the  enemy's  fire,  whenever  he  saw  the  men 
heavily  pressed,  and  encouraged  them  with  words  and  deeds.  And  when 
the  retreat  began  he  actively  engaged  himself  in  trying  to  save  any  of  his 
men  from  being  captured,  for  he  was  among  the  last  to  leave  the  field. 

"  Move  on,  boys  !"  he  cried.  "  Don't  let  the  enemy  capture  you,  for  we'll 
want  you  all  another  day.  I  know  the  battle  is  lost,  and  there  is  no  alterna- 
tive but  to  retreat.  But  we'll  whip  them  the  next  time,  and  we  want  every 
one  of  you  to  help.  Fight  your  way  through  their  ranks.  Don't  let  them 
take  you  prisoners !" 

Charles  Landon  had  generously  given  his  horse  to  one  of  his  wounded 
men  to  ride,  and  had  filled,  with  the  aid  of  others,  an  ambulance  with  the 
wounded  of  the  regiment,  when  a  mob  of  wild,  excited  men  sprang  forward 
to  jump  into  the  wagon  upon  the  wounded.  Instantly  Charlie  sprang  in 
front  of  them  and  drew  his  sword. 

"Back!"  he  cried.  "Shame  on  you,  to  attempt  to  impose  on  wounded 
men !" 

But  the  excited  crowd  still  pressed  forward.  Then  the  brave  firmness  of 
his  nature  showed  itself — the  ring  of  the  true  metal  in  the  man,  as  he 
exclaimed : 

"The  first  man  who  attempts  to  spring  into  that  ambulance.  111  run  my 


10  THROUGH    WAR   TO   PEACE. 

sword  through  him  !" 

The  mass  halted,  for  the  calm  determination  of  that  pale,  handsome  face 
awed  them  even  if  it  did  not  win  their  admiration,  and  then  they  slowly  fell 
back,  and  the  wagon  proceeded  unmolested. 

Thus  ended  disastrously  to  the  National  cause  the  first  important  battle 
of  the  War.  On  both  sides  there  had  been  some  skillful  movements,  and 
never,  perhaps,  in  the  world's  history  had  raw  men  done  such  good  fighting. 
Had  the  Confederates  pushed  forward  they  might  easily  have  captured 
Washington  City.  But  tliey  were  evidently  afraid  of  I'isking  a  defeat,  for 
they  had  not  forgotten  that  they  had  been  beaten  back  in  the  early  part  of 
the  battle,  and  they  were  not  sure  it  might  not  occur  again.  They  were  not 
aware  of  the  fact  that  when  an  army  is  completely  routed  it  falls  an  easy 
prey  to  the  victors ;  besides,  they  had  not  yet  been  hardened  to  blood  and 
death.  For  there  is  no  thorough  school  of  the  soldier,  except  by  months 
of  experience  on  the  field  of  strife — an  experience  they  gained  long  before 
the  close  of  the  War.     But  so  also  had  their  opponents. 

After  this  battle  came  a  quiet,  but  it  was  but  the  lull  before  the  storm  of 
the  most  bloody  and  destructive  war  the  American  continent  had  ever  yet 
known.  And  during  its  progress  the  production  of  as  fine  soldiers  and 
martial  equipments  as  the  world  had  ever  seen.  In  the  meantime  each 
side  began  raising  and  organizing  immense  armies  of  men.  President 
Lincoln's  first  call,  after  the  battle,  was  for  a  half  a  million  of  men.  Gen. 
McDowell  was  removed  from  the  command  of  the  army  around  Washington, 
and  superseded  by  Gen.  McClellan. 

Then  followed  the  ^difficult  task  of  organizing  and  drilling  the  demoralized 
mass.  General  McClellan  proved  equal  to  the  exigency,  and  in  a  few  months 
had  succeeded  in  converting  these  raw  men  into  a  finely  disciplined  army, 
well  prepared  for  the  bloody  work  in  store  for  it. 


CHAPTER  III. 


THE  SOLDIER  S   LAST   WATCH. 

<*/if\H !  once  was  felt  the  storm  of  war  I 

^-^    It  had  an  earthquake's  roar; 
It  flashed  upon  the  mountain's  height. 
And  smoked  along  the  shore. 
It  thundered  in  the  dreaming  e  ar, 
And  up  the  farmer  sprang ; 
It  muttered  in  a  bold,  true  heart, 
And  a  warrior's  hari;ess  rang." 


EARLY  a   year  had  flown  on  the  wings    of    Time    since   the 
Battle  of  Manassas.       Bertha  had  been  a  nurse  in  the  Army 
of  the  Potomac  nearly  seven  months.       General   McClellan 
had  made  his  famous-'  Peninsula  campaign — those  seven  days 
of    continual  fighting — a   series  of    the  most  desperate  and 
bloody  battles  that  had  ever  yet  been  fought  on  the  American 
continent,  beginning  with  the  field  at  Oak  Grove,  then  fol- 
lowed   each   successive    day,    by   the   terrible  contests   of 
Mechanics ville,    Gain's   Mill,    Savage   Station,    White    Oak 
Swamp,  Glendale  and  the  final  fierce  ond  bloody  struggle  at 
Malvern  Hill,  and  now  the  army  had  fallen  back  and  was 
lying  on  the  James  River. 

This  campaign,  one  of  the  most  memorable  in  history,  on 
account  of  its  severe  and  protracted  fighting,  had  cost  the 
Federal  array,  in  sick,  wounded  and  killed,  thousands  upon 
thousands  of  men.  The  multitude  of  hospitals  hastily  im- 
provised in  barns,  churches,  tents  and  every  variety  of 
building,  were  filled  to  overflowing,  and  Bertha  and  the 
many  other  noble  women  found  plenty  of  work  for  their 
willing  hands  to  do. 
'  '^  These  months  of  service  among  the  wounded  were  fast 

winning  for  Bertha  in  the  Army  of  the  Potomac  a  fame  almost  rivaling  that 
of  Florence  Nigtitingale  in  the  Crimea.  For  the  busy  months  of  work  had 
made  her  an  efficient  nurse,  by  teaching  her  to  bravely  control  her  nerves 
and  remain  calm  while  assisting  to  dress  those  frightful  wounds  which  sol- 
diers receive  in  warfare,  and  also  how  to  make  and  administer  the  sedative 
and  cooling  potions  to  the  fever-parched  lips.  Once,  only,  in  her  trying 
service  did  she  faint.     It  was  while  engj>ged  in  bandaging  a  severe  wound 


12  THROUGH    WAR   TO  PEACE. _ 

in  an  officer's  arm.  The  ligature  of  tlie  artery  brolie,  and  the  hot  blood 
spurted  in  a  flood  over  her  white  dress.  Her  head  grew  dizzy,  while  her 
heart  seemed  to  cease  beating,  and  she  would  have  faUen  had  not  a  surgeon 
caught  her  and  placed  her  on  the  bed.  When  she  recovered,  which  she 
rapidly  did,  she  found  that  the  surgeon  had  ligated  the  artery  again,  and 
was  bathing  her  face. 

"  These  are  terrible  sights,  my  little  ladj',"  said  the  surgeon,  kindly,  when 
she  had  opened  her  eyes  again.  "  I  am  afraid  they  will  prove  too  much 
for  you." 

"Oh  no !"  she  replied,  "  I  shall  try  and  be  stronger  the  next  time." 

After  that  when  serious  accidents  occurred  (for  they  often  did)  she  pressed 
her  thumb  upon  the  artery,  thus  stopping  the  flow  of  blood,  and  quietly 
awaited  the  arrival  of  the  surgeon.  Thus  when  she  found  she  could  be 
truly  useful  to  the  wounded,  she  threw  herself  with  her  whole  heart  into 
the  noble  work.  And  many  were  the  blessings  showered  upon  the  hand- 
some little  lady's  head  by  the  suffering  men,  as  she  knelt  by  their  beds  and 
administered  to  their  wants,  ever  with  words  of  kindness.  For  a  soidier  in 
pain  can  fully  appreciate  the  soft,  magic  touch  of  a  woman's  hand. 

Eough  and  bad  as  some  of  these  men  had  been,  they  never  forgot  her 
noble  kindness,  and  when  many  of  them  were  again  able  to  leave  the  hospi- 
tal, they  could  not  employ  words  enough  in  which  to  praise  her  to  others. 
And  afterwards,  when  she  passed  groups  of  soldiers,  containing,  perhaps, 
but  a  single  one  who  had  ever  known  her  gentle  care  (but  he  had  informed 
the  rest)  every  cap  was  raised,  their  boisterous  laughter  ceased,  and  a 
silence  fell  upon  them,  as  if  they  were  in  the  presence  of  an  angel. 

It  is  no  idle  fancy  that  wins  this  respect  from  men.  For  a  noble  woman 
is  God's  sublimest  work  on  earth.  The  brightest  and  richest  diadem  beneath 
the  blue  of  heaven.  Her  example  good  men  love  to  follow,  and  even  evil 
ones  learn  to  admire.  Noble,  kind  and  true,  she  leaves  a  record  through 
the  flood  of  years  that  time  can  never  efface.  She  has  planted  and  nourished 
the  blossoms  that  will  bloom  beyond  the  skies.  For  there  is  a  power  in  a 
good  woman's  magic  touch  naught  else  can  win.  It  is  the  one  foretaste 
of  heaven  that  few  but  a  wounded  soldier  has  ever  learned  to  feel,  as  she 
kneels  by  his  side  amid  the  conflict;  and  does  a  noble  work  of  mercy. 

Bertha,  during  all  these  months  in  the  army,  had  had  but  several  conver- 
sations with  Charlie  Landon,  for,  although  when  they  met  it  was  in  a  very 
friendly  way,  there  was  a  constraint  in  their  manners  that  touched  a  tender 
chord  in  their  hearts — and  actually  made  the  interview  painful — as  it  became 
impressed  upon  their  minds  that  they  were  drifting  farther  and  farther 
apart. 

But  oh,  how  he  longed  at  each  meeting  to  place  his  arm  about  her  and 
tell  her  of  the  never-ceasing  love  beating  in  his  heart,  as  he  called  himself  a 
thousand  times  a  brute  for  his  treatment  of  her  affections  !  "  But  alas  !" 
he  thought,  "  I  have  crushed  the  last  spark  of  fondness  from  her  heart  by 
my  contemptible  actions  1  And  I  will  not  try  to  degrade  or  annoj'  her  by 
offering  a  love  that  must  be  distasteful." 

So  that  powerful  control  of  his  nature  crushed  down  every  impulse  of 
his   heart,  and   he  met  her  as  calmly  as  if  she  were  but  a  mere  chance 


THROUGH    WAR   TO  PEACE.  13 

acquaintance. 

And  at  these  moments  in  her  bosom  what  a  wealth  of  tenderness  lingered 
for  the  man  she  loved,  no  words  could  express.  But  these  many  days  of 
experience  with  danger,  death  and  care  had  taught  her  well  the  lesson  of 
self  control.  So  when  chance  threw  them  together  her  little  hand  touched 
his  without  a  quiver,  while  the  beautiful,  pale  face  showed  not  a  sign  of  the 
strong  emotions  that  were  struggling  in  the  little  heart. 

Of  course  Bertha  found  life  in  the  army  fraught  with  many  hardships  and 
trials,  but  there  was  a  consolation  for  all  its  inconveniences,  in  being  sur- 
rounded by  so  many  friends  of  her  youth.  Though  she  met  Charlie  but 
seldom,  she  saw  him  often,  and  that  was  a  pleasure  that  always  had  a  lin- 
gering, inexpressible  sweetness  about  it.  Then,  too,  her  true,  noble  friend. 
Dr.  GranviMe,  was  nearly  always  near,  ever  ready  to  assist  and  encourage 
her.  And  then  there  were  the  other  young  men  from  St.  Arlyle,  not  that 
she  had  known  them  much  iu  former  j^ears,  but  they  were  from  her  native 
village,  around  which  sweet  memories  still  clung.  And  then,  too,  in  the 
past  year,  they  had  been  so  linked  in  her  fortunes  and  misfortunes,  that 
almost  unconsciously  a  strong  friendship  had  grown  up  between  the  little 
lady  and  them  Tor  it  is  said,  and  truly,  indeed,  that  kindred  works,  or 
trials,  make  kindred  friendships  too.  And  they,  on  their  part,  were  always 
ready  to  add  to  her  comfort  or  pleasure  by  bringing  her  flowers,  fruits  or 
other  gifts,  often  fraught  with  great  difficulty  to  obtain,  in  that  war-swept 
country.  Thus,  surrounded  by  so  many  well-wishers,  gradually  came  a 
home-like  feeling  in  her  heart.  For  there  is  nothing  that  constitutes  home 
so  truly  as  to  be  near  friends  and  those  dear  ones  we  love  the  best. 

It  was  the  evening  of  the  7th  of  July,  but  a  week  after  the  last  battle  at 
Malvern  Hill ;  the  Army  of  the  Potomac  was  still  encamped  on  the  James 
Kiver,  and  in  the  homes  in  every  part  of  the  Republic  were  still  fresh  the 
memories  of  the  dead,  as  mothers,  wives,  sisters  and  sweethearts  were 
sadly  treasuring  up  the  last  mementoes  of  the  loved  ones,  sleeping  forever 
in  unmarked  soldiers'  graves  in  old  Virginia ! 

The  night  set  in  bright  and  clear,  but  ere  long  a  fog  began  drifting  in  from 
the  bay,  each  hour  growing  denser,  till  it  enveloped  the  two  armies  like  a 
mantlo,  and  hid  from  the  Federal  forces  their  long  picket  line,  nearly  two 
miles  distant. 

At  the  extremity  of  the  line,  where  it  touched  the  river,  James  Kelly  was 
standing  guard  in  the  silent  gloom — silent  and  gloomy  indeed,  except  for 
the  occasional  report  and  flash  of  a  musket  from  his  own  line  or  tiiat  of  the 
enemy,  for  the  outposts  of  the  contending  armies  were  so  near  together  that 
they  could  hear  the  challenges  of  each  others'  officers  as  they  went  their 
rounds. 

It  was  just  8  o'clock  when  Kelly  took  his  place  on  duty,  relieving  the 
former  sentinel.  The  mist  had  already  begun  to  rapidly  envelope  the  field, 
and  as  he  stood  at  his  post  and  watched  wistfully,  almost  sadly,  the  last 
gleam  of  the  distant  camp  fires  fade  away  in  the  gathering  gloom — shutting 
him  in  on  his  lonely  vigil — there  came  a  presentiment  over  the  young  soldier's 
heart  that  the  old  life  had  faded  too.  For  an  indescribable  something 
seemed  to  tell  him  that  it  was  his  last  watch  on  earth.       But  in  spite  of  his 


U  THROUGH   WAR   TO    PEACE. 

foars  not  a  tliought  of  deserting  his  post  of  duly  ever  crossed  the  brave 
young  fellow's  breast. 

At  10  o'clock  the  relief  came,  but  he  gave  no  answer  to  the  challenge,  so 
another  sentinel  was  placed  on  his  post.  Again,  at  midnight,  the  guard  was 
changed,  but  there  were  no  signs  of  the  young  soldier.  He  was  hidden 
from  view  in  the  mist.  Once  mure  the  night  wore  on.  At  last,  when  day- 
light broke,  and  the  warm  beams  of  the  sun  had  melted  away  the  mist,  they 
found  the  brave  young  fellow  lying  at  his  post !  A  deep,  crimson  stain  on 
the  rough  blue  coat,  just  above  his  heart,  told  the  sad  story  that  he  was  "off 
duty"  forever !  His  eyes  were  gently  closed,  as  it  in  sleep,  while  on  the 
cold  lips  was  even  impressed  a  smile,  telling  that  his  death  had  been  sudden 
and  painless.  The  pale  face  was  wet  with  dew,  as  if,  for  f  iillfiUing  his  duty, 
Heaven  had  thrown  down  its  cold  kiss  of  approval  there ! 

His  comrades  raised  his  body  gently,  and  as  they  bore  it  away  their 
weather-roughened  faces  softened  and  their  eyes  grew  moist.  Even  the 
enemy's  pickets,  who  were  separated  from  them  by  but  a  narrow  cornfield, 
dropped  the  butts  of  their  muskets  on  the  ground  and  waited  in  respectful 
silence  till  the  dead  soldier  was  borne  from  the  field.  Such  was  often  the 
kindness  shown  on  both  sides  for  the  dead  and  wounded.  Is  it  any  wonder, 
then,  that  the  war  was  scarcely  over  before  these  same  men  who  had  crossed 
arms  in  deadly  conflict  began  to  bridge  over  the  bloody  chasm,  by  forgiving 
and  forgetting,  till  it  seemed  that  the  Kepublic  was  growing  stjonger  in  the 
union  of  hearts  than  ever?  ' 

Just  before  sunset  that  day  all  that  was  mortal  of  James  Kelly  was 
brought  in  a  rough  pine  coffin  to  its  last  resting  place — a  grave  dug  under  a 
willow,  near  the  river.  Bertha  had  twined  a  wreath  of  white  roses  and 
geraniums — which  she  had  gathered  at  a  neighboring  farm  house — and 
placed  it  on  his  breast,  as  a  tribute  of  her  friendship.  Around  the  coffin 
were  gathered  the  men  from  St.  Arlyle — the  friends  of  bygone  years.  They 
removed  the  lid,  and  as  each  was  taking  a  last  lingering  look,  Bertha  knelt 
down  and  severed  a  lock  of  his  brown  hair  and  pressed  the  cold  lips  that 
could  never  more  know  or  feel  a  kiss  unless  spirits  can  come  back  again 
from  that  land  beyond  the  skies. 

Bertha  arose,  and  as  the  tears  stole  down  her  cheeks,  said : 

"Poor  fellow  !  he's  had  a  rugged  life  !  But  he's  at  last  at  rest !  Let  us 
hope  on  heaven's  bright  shore  !  He  once  did  me  a  noble  favor,  and  I  shall 
always  retain  a  warm  place  in  my  heart  for  his  memory  !" 

"Yes,  '  said  Charlie  Laudon,  "he  was  as  much  a  hero  as  the  greatest 
general  in  the  array,  for  he  gave  all  he  could  give  for  his  country — his  life  !" 

The  chaplain  then  read  the  short  burial  service,  and  when  it  was  ended 
the  escort  fired  three  volleys  over  the  grave  and  quickly  strong  arms  hid 
him  from  mortal  view.  And  the  friends  of  bygone  years  turned  sorrowfully 
back  to  camp,  as  they  felt  that  a  link  was  missing  in  the  silver  chain  of 
friendship;  endeared  by  the  association  of  years,  till  it  almost  twined  with 
the  golden  chain  of  love ! 


CHAPTEK  IV. 

THE   OLD   ENEMY   AGAIN. 

•^  n  open  foe  may  be  a  curse, 

<S^    But  a  pretended  friend  Is  worse. 

—  Gay. 

.ATE  one    afteruoon,   a    few    days 

after  the  great  Battle  of    Antie- 

tam,    while    Bertha    was    busily 

engaged  in  attending  the  wounded 

in  one  of  the  large  hospital  tents, 

where    they   had  been   crowded, 

a  letter  was  handed  to  her.       After 

dressing    the  soldier's  arm  she  was 

attending,  she    took  the    letter    and 

esan'ined  the  directions.       They  were 

written   in    bold,    round   letters,    and 

addressed  to  "  Miss  Bertha  Merton." 

Hastily   taking  the   note   out   of   the 

envelope,  for   it  was  not  sealed,  she 

read  as  follows : 

"Miss  Merton  :  A  very  dear  friend 
is  lying  dangerously  wounded,  perhaps 
dying.     Will  you  come?"        *       «       * 

Then    followed     a    description    by 

which  she  could  find  the  place.     It  was 

a  small  cottage  situated  nearly  three  miles  away,  and  fully  a  mile  beyond 

the  Federal  outposts,  and  nearly  six  miles  from  one  of  the  enemy's  main 

bodies,  which  lay  encamped  across  the  Potomac  Kiver. 

As  she  read^the  epistle  her  heart  gave  a  wild  throb  of  fear  and  pain,  and  it 
was  all  she  could  do  to  choke  back  the  tears  as  she  thought :  "  Is  it  dear,  kind 
May  who  is  wounded  and  dying?  Oh,  what  a  cruel  thing  is  war !  It  lias 
not  even  spared  dear,  innocent  May  !"  And  then,  in  spite  of  all  her  control, 
She  burst  into  tears. 

"Yes,  I  will  go  to  her  instantly."  So,  seizing  her  hat  and  cloak,  she 
started  to  leave  the  hospital,  when  suddenly  she  remembered  that  she  had 
an  engagement  with  Marshall  to  visit  one  of  the  young  men  from  St.  Arlyle, 
who  was  lying  wounded  in  another  tent.      So  she  sealed  the  letter,  and, 


16  THROUGH    W^AR   TO  PEACE. 

handing  it  to  a  surgeon,  requested  him  to  give  it  to  Major  Marsliall  when  he 
called,  saying  that  it  would  explain  itself.  Also  requesting  the  doctor  to 
tell  Marshall  that  she  would  immediately  visit  the  sick  soldier  on  her  return, 
she  hastened  away. 

When  she  started  the  last  beams  of  day  were 'fast  fading,  and  ere  she 
reached  the  outposts  of  the  army  it  was  quite  dark.  But  she  kept  on  in 
the  right  direction,  for  she  was  too  well  acquainted  with  the  neighboring 
country  to  lose  her  way.  When  she  reached  the  Federal  pickets  there  was 
a  soldier  on  guard  whom  she  knew,  and  he  allowed  her  to  pass  without  any 
questions.  Leaving  the  Union  lines,  she  walked  rapidly,  yet  cautiously, 
toward  the  enemy.  When  within  a  couple  of  hundred  yards  of  the  cottage, 
she  suddenly  came  upon  an  advanced  post  of  Confederates — evidently  a 
reconnoiteriiig  party  which  had  crossed  the  river — consisting  of  three  men, 
one  of  whom  cried  : 

"  Halt !     Who  goes  there?" 

But  before  she  could  reply  one  of  his  comrades  said  : 

"It's  a  lady.     One  of  the  oflBcer's  wives,  I  guess.     Let  her  pass." 

Years  after,  when  the  war  was  over,  she  learned  that  the  soldier  who  had 
spoken  last  was  a  Vandal  who  had  left  St.  Arlyle  and  joined  the  Confederate 
army.  He  had  instantly  recognized  her,  and  had  made  up  his  mind  that 
she  should  pasa  unmolested. 

The  direction  in  the  letter  had  been  so  plain  that  she  easily  found  the 
house.  Crossing  the  small  garden  in  front  of  it,  she  stood  knocking  at  the 
door  before  a  thought  of  fear  or  of  her  strange  situation  crossed  her  mind. 
For  her  brain  was  so  excited  by  emotion  that,  though  her  long  walk  had 
almost  exhausted  her  strength,  she  was  scarcely  aware  of  it. 

On  knocking  at  the  door  a  muffled  voice  within  cried :  "Come  in." 

Pushing  open  the  door,  she  entered.  The  apartment  was  almost  in  dark- 
ness, except  for  a  lamp  burning  dimly.  Her  first  thoughts  were  of  May,  as 
she  walked  to  a  bed  in  one  corner  and  drew  back  the  covering.  It  was  un- 
occupied. At  that  instant  the  lamp  was  turned  up,  flooding  the  room  with 
light,  and  the  next  moment  a  hand  was  laid  on  her  shoulder.  She  started, 
and,  looking  up,  saw  the  face  of  John  Shackle! 

Her  heart  gave  a  wild  bound  of  terror,  and  her  pale  face  grew  even  whiter 
as  she  felt  she  was  again  in  this  villain's  power ! 

"  Well,  we've  met  again  !  "  he  said,  triumphantly,  while  a  sardonic  grin 
curled  his  flabby  lips. 

"So  I  see,"  she  said,  calmly,  rapidly  i-egaining  her  seif-possession. 

"  You  take  it  very  coolly,"  he  exclaimed,  sarcastically. 

But  he  immediately  recognized  that  she  was  no  longer  the  innocent  though 
clover  girl  of  a  few  months  before;  but  a  woman,  whom  experience  with 
the  world  had  rendered  wiser  and  more  discerning,  though  it  had  robbed 
her  of  none  of  the  noble  sweetness  of  her  nature. 

"What  else  could  I  do?"  she  asked,  demurely. 

"You  are  not  as  innocent  as  you  pretend  to  be,"  he  replied,  mockingly. 

"  Perhaps  not ;  but,  as  I  said  before,  what  am  I  to  do?    Cry?" 

"No,"  he  said,  sharply,  "it  wouldn't  do  you  any  good  if  you  did." 

"  No,  of  coui'S)  not.     But  why  cannot  we  be  friends?" 


THROUGH    WAR   TO   PEACE.  17 

*•  Are  you  sincere?" 

"  Why  should  I  not  be?    You  have  never  injured  me." 

"No,  not  that  I  remember.     But  are  you  willing  to  aid  nie?" 

"Yes,  if  your  requests  are  reasonable." 

"  But  who  is  to  be  the  judge  of  that?    You  or  I?" 

"Both  of  us,  I  suppose,"  she  replied,  smiling. 

"  Yes,  it  takes  two  to  make  a  bargain." 

"  Then  state  your  proposition." 

"Not quite  yet,  my  lady.      You  think  you're  sharp,  don't  you?      But  I'u 
a  lawyer,  and  I  know  what's  what." 

"No,  I  don't  think  I'm  a  match  for  you." 

"Oh,  you  don't!"  sarcastically. 

"  No  indeed,  Mr.  Shackle." 

"  I  supposed  you  did,"  he  said,  sneeringly. 

"But  I  do  not." 

"You  escaped  from  me  nicely  last  time.     I  suppose  you  think  you  can  do 
it  again?" 

"I  don't  see  much  of  a  chance,"  she  said,  laughing. 

"  Neither  do  I.     I've  got  you  in  my  power  this  time." 

"  Yes,  I  suppose  so,"  she  replied,  looking  furtively  toward  the  door. 

He  saw  her  glances,  as  he  said,  triumphantly :    "  You  needn  t  look  at  the 
door.     I've  locked  it.     Now  why  don't  you  cry?" 

"Why  should  I?     You  are  not  my  enemy.     Ycu  never  did  me  an  injury." 

"Then  why  did  you  run  away  before?" 

"  Because  I  was  younger  then,  and  knew  no  better." 

"  I  suppose  you  are  smarter  now,"  he  said,  sneeringly. 

"  I  don't  know." 

"  You  wouldn't  run  away  now,  because  you  haven't  the  chance." 

"No,"  she  answered,  laughing. 

"No,  of  course  not,"  he  said,  as  involuntarily  a  smile  crossed  his  lips. 
"You  don't  do  anything  you  can't." 

"No,  never,"  smiling. 

"I  suppose  you  thought  the  English  detectives  hai  me  safe  long  ago. 
But  I  was  too  sharp  for  them." 

"  Yes,  I  see  you  were." 

A  look  of  pride  swept  over  his  face  at  her  answer,  as  he  said  : 

"Yes,  those  London  detectives  will  find  me  a  match  for  them.  I've 
thrown  them  entirely  off  the  scent  this  time.  They  do  not  even  dream  that  . 
I  am  in  the  Confederate  States.  They  were  looking  for  me  in  Canada,  the 
last  time  I  heard  from  them.  They  imagine  themselves  very  smart,  but  I'll 
show  them  a  trick  worth  two  of  theirs  !  I'll  allure  them  here.  And  then, 
you  know,  in  a  war-swept  country  like  this,  it  is  not  an  unusual  thing  to  see 
a  man  with  a  bullet  hole  through  his  head,  or  a  bayonet  thrust  in  his  heart! 
It  doesn't  even  excite  comment.  I'll  soon  have  them  out  of  the  way,  when 
I  once  get  them  here.  It's  annoying,  to  say  the  least,  to  ha»»  these  Lon- 
don devils  dogging  one  around.  But  I'll  give  them  more  than  they  bargained 
for !  But  there  is  one  thing  I  need  to  accomplish  my  little  scheme — that  i  » 
money.     And  you  can  help  me  obtain  it.     You  must !"  , 


18  THROUGH  WAR   TO   PEACE. 

"  Yes,"  she  replied,  but  as  you  are,  perhaps,  well  aware,  I  have  none  with 
me.  But  I  can  return  to  the  Federal  camp  and  undoubtedly  obtain  it  for 
you,"  she  continued,  eagerly,  as  her  heart  beat  exultingly  at  the  thought  of 
escape. 

"No  doubt  you  could,  if  you  would  do  so.  But  if  you  were  once  to  get 
back  to  the  Federal  lines  you  would  forget  all  about  me.  Your  dear  little 
memory  would  be  very  short.'' 

"No,  1  will  surely  fulfill  my  promise  if  you  will  let  me  go." 

"  I  doubt  it.'' 

"  I  will  swear  to  it!"  she  cried,  desperately. 

"  1  have  no  doubt.  But  I  don't  mean  to  trust  you.  I  don't  intend  to  be 
hoodwinked.'' 

"  But  I  will  surely  fulfill  my  promise,"  she  cried,  earnestly. 

"  Words  are  cheap,  my  lady.  But  you  are  dealing  with  too  sharp  a  man 
to  so  easily  escape.     So  don't  waste  your  breath." 

"Then  how  can  I  obtain  you  the  money?" 

"  Easily  enough.  Sign  this  check  on  the  bank  in  the  city  near  St.  Arlyle, 
and  I  can  soon  obtain  the  money." 

"  I  am  not  aware  that  I  have  a  cent  in  that  bank." 

"  I  will  take  my  chances  on  that." 

"  I  don't  think  the  bank  authorities  are  familiar  with  my  signature.  For 
if  I  have  any  money  there  my  father  dejiosited  it." 

"  1  will  attend  to  that.     Sign  this  check." 

"  But,"  she  said,  "if  you  will  let  me  go  back  I  will  certainly  obtain  the 
money  for  you  if  it  lies  in  my  power.     1  swear  it !"' 

"I  see  what  is  in  your  mind.  It  is  escape.  But  it  is  no  use  !  You  are 
only  wasting  words.  Sign  this  check.  For  I  inform  you,  most  emphatically, 
that  all  your  promises  and  protests  are  wasted  on  me." 

"But  if  you  would " 

"  Co)ifo'iuid  it!  "  he  interrupted,  angrily,  "you  are  only  wasting  words, 
and  making  a  fool  of  yourself!    Sign!  I  tell  you,  sign!" 

"  But  will  you  let  me  return,  if  I  sign  it?" 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  gruffly. 

"Upon  your  honor?" 

"  Of  course  I  will,  you  little  fool!  "  he  exclaimed,  angrily.  '•  What  in 
thunder  do  you  suppose  I  would  want  with  you?" 

"  Very  well,"  she  answered,  as  she  seated  herself  at  the  little  stand. 

"Now,"  he  said,  "don't  try  to  disguise  your  handwriting,  or  I'll  make  you 
write  it  over  again." 

"  No,  I  will  not,"  she  said,  as  she  read  the  paper  over.  Then,  adding  her 
name  to  it,  she  arose,  saying  : 

"  Now,  will  you  let  me  go?" 

"No,  I'm  not  through  with  you  yet.  Do  you  suppose  I  am  such  an  idiot 
as  to  allow  you  to  go  and  have  the  payment  of  the  check  stopped?" 

"But  I  will  swear  to  heaven  that  I  will  not  do  so,"  she  exclaimed,  ex- 
citedly. 

"  Bah  !  no  more  of  your  promises.  Have  I  not  told  you  often  enough  I 
would  not  trust  you?    You  are  only  wasting  your  breath  1" 


THROUGH    WAR   TO   PEACE.    '        19 
% 

"  But  you  promised  to  release  me." 

"Well,  what  of  it?" 

"Then  you  told  a  falsehood." 

"That  don't  trouble  my  conscience  much.      I've  told  many  a  lie  before." 

"  But  what  am  I  to  do?     I  can't  stay  here,''  she  cried,  pathetically. 

"No,  of  course  not.  I  will  take  you  witl  me  to  the  Confederate  camp. 
How  do  you  like  the  proposition?" 

"  I  don't  like  it,"  she  said,  tremblingly. 

"  I  supposed  you  wouldn't." 

"Are  you  an  officer  of  the  Confederate  army?"  she  asked,  suddenly. 

"No." 

"Then — "  she  commenced,  but  suddenly  stopped. 

"Then,"  he  said,  divining  her  question,  "what  am  I  doing  in  it?  I  pre- 
tend to  be  a  war  correspondent,  but  that  is  a  mere  blind,  while  I  work  out  a 
scheme  of  mine.  My  name  is  now  Charles  Thorne.  And  don't  you  forget 
it.     So  you  don't  like  the  proposition?" 

"  No,"  she  said,  struggling  hard  to  keep  back  her  temper,  fearing  his 
violence. 

"Well,  there  is  a  way  to  avoid  it.  You  have  requested  that  we  might  be 
friends." 

"Yes,"  shortly. 

"And  I  have  nothing  against  you,  although  your  stubbornness  came  near 
getting  me  into  a  serious  difficulty  once.  But  I  will  let  that  pass.  Of 
course  you  are  aware  that  you  are  deucedly  pretty,  in  spite  of  all  your 
mulishness?" 

Instinctively  she  divined  his  meaning,  but  fear  and  anger  kept  her  silent. 

"  Well,  I  won't  be  hard  on  you,"  he  contmued,  after  waiting  several 
moments  for  her  to  speak.  "  Now,  if  you  will  accept  my  proposition,  you 
may  go  back  to  the  Federal  camp.  It  is  that  you  will  swear  before  heaven 
that  you  will  marry  me  within  a  year." 

"Never!"'  she  cried,  the  whole  indignation  and  scorn  of  her  nature 
flashing  forth  in  her  face  and  large,  black  eyes. 

"  Then  I'll  kuin  you  ! !"  he  yelled,  as  a  demoniacal  expression  of  anger 
Bwept  over  his  distorted  face,  that  sent  a  thrill  of  terror  through  her  heart. 


CHAPTER   V. 

A   NEMESIS   ON   HIS   TKACK. 

^KlME  at  last  sets  all  things  even ; 
^^    And  if  we  do  but  watch  the  hour. 
There  never  yet  was  human  power. 
Which  could  evade,  it  uufor^iven, 
The  patient  search,  and  vigil  long, 
Of  him  who  treasures  up  a  wrong. 

—Byron. 


>BOUT  half  an  hour  after  Bertha  left  the  hospital  tent,  Mar- 
shall entered  and  inquired  for  her.  He  soon  found  the 
surgeon  to  whom  she  had  given  the  letter,  and  as  he  gave 
it  to  Marshall  he  remarked  that  Miss  Merton  had  said  that 
it  would  explain  all.  On  receiving  the  epistle,  Marshall 
walked  to  an  opening  in  the  tent,  and  hastily  glanced  at  the 
address  in  the  fast  waning  daylight.  He  knew  the  handwriting  in  an  in- 
stant. And  over  his  face  came  an  expi-ession  of  anger  and  determination, 
that  rapidly  became  mingled  with  sadness,  as  the  writing  recalled  the  bitter 
memories  of  long  fled  years.  He  tore  open  the  envelope,  and  without 
relaxing  a  muscle  of  his  rigidly  drawn  face,  read  the  epistle  through,  then 
here  escaped  between  his  set  teeth  but  a  single  word  : 
"  Entrapped  !" 

Turning  on  his  heel  he  walked  back  to  the  surgeon,  and  asked  : 
'•Doctor,  how  long  is  it  since  Miss  Merton  left?"  , 

"Not  quite  half  an  hour." 

"ThaJik  heaven  !  I'm  yet  in  time  to  save  Bertha,"  he  muttered  to  him- 
self, as  he  strode  away  toward  his  tent.  Reaching  it^he  entered,  and  taking^ 
his  pistol  and  sword  from  a  table,  he  attached  it  to  his  belt,  and  buckling  it 
on,  walked  to  the  entrance  way.  As  he  stood  leaning  agamst  the  tent  pole 
he  formed  a  fine  manly  picture  in  the  evening  light,  his  thick,  black  wavy- 
hair  pushed  back  from  the  broad,  white  brow  of  his  uncovered  head,  and 
his  tall,  full  figure  clad  in  a  dark  blue  uniform  with  its  golden  buttons  across- 
his  breast,  while  on  each  shoulder  gleamed  and  danced  in  the  uncertain 
light  the  golden  leaves  of  a  major. 

Standing  there  in  the  dim,  shadowy  twilight,  oblivious  to  the  noisy  hum, 
and  the  thousands  of  expiring  camp-fires  of  the  large  army — for  his  thoughts 
were  drifting  backward  to  dear  and  sad  scenes  of  his  boyhood,  far  acnibS 
the  dark,  blue  waves — there  came  over  his  face  a  tender  sadness,  that  illu- 


THROUGH    WAR,   TO  PEACE.  21 

rninated  it  with  a  nobleness  that  almost  rendered  it  handsome,  were  it  not 
for  the  traces  of  dissipation  there. 

But  gradually  the  sadness  of  his  face  melted  away — like  snow  on  a  vol- 
cano's peak  from  the  internal  tire — and  over  it  came  a  look  of  determination, 
mingled  with  anger,  as  he  thought : 

"So  you've  crossed  my  path  again,  James  Sneaker — or  John  Shackle,  as 

you  call  yourself  now!       I  think  I  would  have  known  your  handwriting 

for  it  seems  engraven  on  my  heart  in  lettei'S  of  fire — had  you  attempted  to 
disguise  it,  or  were  my  eyes  grown  dim  with  years.  Your  cruel  deed  started 
me  on  the  downward  path,  twenty  long  years  ago !  And  you,  alone,  are 
responsible  for  the  dissipated  life  I've  led  !  You  allured  my  only  sister  on 
to  ruin,  as  fair  and  noble  a  giil  as  ever  placed  her  heart  and  hand  in  a  vil- 
lain's care  !  You  betrayed  her  and  left  her  alone  to  face  a  cold  and  heartless 
world  !  She  felt  her  disgrace  bitterly,  to  her  very  heart's  core,  and  saw  but 
one  escape  from  her  shame — in  death  !  So  she  took  the  cup  of  poison  and 
drank  it  to  the  dregs !  And  to-night  she  sleeps  peacefully  in  her  tomb ! 
And  when  her  spirit  is  wafted  beyond  the  sky,  I  think  the  God  of  all  will 
uot  Judge  her  too  harshly  for  her  only  sin ! 

"  But,  Shackle,  I  do  not  envy  you  your  conscience,  or  your  reckoning  with 
youi  Creator,  when  your  wicked  course  is  run  !  You  had  me  thrown  into 
prison  when  I  tried  to  avenge  the  dearest  and  sweetest  of  sisters — I  can  see 
her  now,  in  my  wild  imagination,  and  again  stroke  her  dark  brown,  wavy 
hair,  and  watch  her  liquid  black  eyes  look  trustingly  up  to  mine !  Yes,  my 
darling  Nelly,  I  can  see  your  sweet  face  gazing  up  from  the  grave  for  ven- 
geante !  And  here,  to-night,  amid  the  clash  of  war,  between  the  contending 
armies,  where  there  is  no  perverted  justice  or  judge,  we  shall  meet,  and 
then  1  shall  show  you  as  little  mercy  as  you  showed  to  her ! 

"You  think  to  have  another  victim  in  Bertha  Merton,  but  retribution  is 
close  on  your  track!  I'll  cleave  your  wicked  body,  or  else  my  right  hand 
has  lost  its  cunning,  and  my  steel  will  refuse  to  cut!  Yes,  I'll  tlucart  your 
devilish  purpose,  or  leave  another  victim  for  you  to  gloat  over! 

"  But  I  must  to  action,  and,  ere  the  day  dawns,  settle  the  old  score  with 
you!" 

With  these  last  thoughts  he  entered  the  tent  again,  and  putting  on  a 
large  black  overcoat,  which  he  buttoned  across  his  breast  to  conceal  his 
uniform,  he  strode  out  and  walked  rapidly  through  the  camp.  Beaching 
and  passing  the  Union  pickets  without  difficulty,  he  moved  rapidly,  yet 
watchfully,  toward  the  cottage.  When  within  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  of 
it  he  suddenly  came  upon  four  Confederates  kneeling  on  the  ground  in  a 
group.  They  had  been  making  a  reconnoissance  in  front  of  the  Federal 
lines,  and  had  now  fallen  back  to  a  more  safe  distance,  out  of  the  range  of 
the  pickets'  rifles. 

Marshall,  as  he  approached  them,  assumed  a  bold  demeanor,  as  if  he 
were  one  of  their  officers,  and  cried  commaudiiigly  : 

"  Halt !     Who  goes  there?" 

They  made  no  reply  at  first,  and  seemed  inclined  to  retreat,  but  after  a 
hurried  conference  one  of  them  answered: 

"Friends!" 


^2  THROUGH    WAR   TO  FEACE. 

•'Advauce,  friends,  and  give  the  countersign  !" 
"  Stonewall  Jackson  !"  replied  one  of  tlie  soldiers. 
"All  right,"  said  Marshall,  as  he  passed  onward. 

A  few  minutes  after,  Marshall  i-eached  the  cottage  garden,  and,  pushing 
open  the  little  gate,  walked  up  to  the  door. 


As  Shackle  yelled  the  words,  "  I'll  ruin  i/ou!"  he  sprang  forward  and 
seized  Bertha  savagely  by  the  shoulder.  When  she  felt  his  grasp  all  hope 
died  within  her  heart,  and  a  feeling  of  horror  seized  her.  Almost  at  that 
Instant  a  muscular  shoulder  was  thrown  against  the  door,  the  lock  bursted 
from  its  fastenings,  and  as  the  door  swung  open,  Marshall  sprang  into  the 
room ! 

"Back,  villainr  he  cried.     "Backr' 

As  he  spoke  he  tlirew  off  his  overcoat — which  he  had  previously  unbut- 
toned— while  his  hand,  almost  involuutarily,  grasped  his  sword. 

"Save  vie!"  cried  Bertha,  rushing  to  him  for  protection. 

He  laid  his  hand  gently  on  hor  slioulder,  as  he  said  calmly,  in  a  low  tone: 
•'You  are  free,  my  little  lady  !  I'll  attend  to  the  scoundrel !  Now,  go  back 
to  the  camp." 

"But  he  may  wound  you,"  she  said,  hesitatingly. 

*'No  danger  of  that:  I'm  too  good  a  swordsman  for  him  !" 

She  still  lingered,  and  he  continued,  "  Go,  Miss  Mertou.  Go  !  I'll  soon 
settle  loith  him!    I  ivant  you  to  leave." 

"Very  well,"  she  answered,  and  left  the  room. 

Shackle  stood  glaring  at  Marshall  like  some  wild  beast  at  bay,  his  face 
convulsed  with  rage,  while  his  eyes  seemed  balls  of  fire,  ready  to  start  from 
their  sockets !  For  some  moments  there  was  a  death-like  silence,  then 
Shackle  hissed  between  his  tightly  clenched  teeth,  with  an  oath,  as  he 
grasped  his  sword  handle  almost  convulsively  : 

"  Marshall,  I'm  a  dangerous  man  !  I'll  cut  your  heart  out  if  you  don't 
leave!!" 

An  expi'ession  of  the  strongest  contempt  and  defiance  crossed  Marshall's 
face,  mingled  with  a  sne,er,  as  he  said,  scornfully : 

"I've  courted  death  too  often  to  have  a  single /ea?-  now!  My  God  !  how 
I  have  prayed  and  waited /or  this!" 

At  Marshall's  words  there  swept  over  the  villian's  distorted  face  an  inde- 
scribable expression  of  fear,  while  his  hand  trembled.  And  as  he  gazed  into 
the  face  of  the  other,  and  saw  there  a  calm,  cold  desperation — such  as  only 
comes  over  a  man  through  years  of  anger,  suffering  and  disappointment — 
he  saw  but  one  chance  of  escape — that  of  kilJng  his  adversary. 

The  two  men  stood  watching  each  other,  (like  two  wild  beasts  of  prey 
before  making  a  spring)  for  a  few  seconds,  each  waiting  for  the  other  to 
commence  the  death  struggle,  then  Marshall  said,  in  a  calm,  icy  tone,  that 
rang  out  sharp  and  distinct: 

"Are  you  ready?    Then  defend  yourself!" 

Instantly  their  swords  crossed  with  a  sharp,  metallic  ring.  Almost  the 
next  instant  Shackle  disengaged  his  blade  and  made  a  thrust  i/i  carte,  which 


THROUGH    WAR   TO   PEACE.  23 

though  Marshall  skillfully  parried,  just  grazed  his  arm,  tearing  the  sleeve  of 
his  coat. 

"Ah  !"  thought  Marshall,  "he's  a  better  swordsman  than  I  thought.  I 
must  watch  him !" 

Then  their  blades  crossed  again,  and  for  nearly  a  minute  the  clash  of  the 
steel  rang  through  the  apartment,  each  evidently  waiting  for  the  other  to 
make  a  thrust.  At  last  Shackle  grew  furious  with  rage,  and  stepping 
slightly  backward,  then  advancing,  made  a  quick,  vigorous  thrust,  which 
the  other  parried,  instantly  giviug  a  counter  thrust,  just  scratching  his 
adversary's  arm  with  the  point  of  the  blade. 

With  an  oath  of  rage.  Shackle  made  a  furious  thrust,  that  required  all  the 
other's  skill  and  power  to  parry. 

Once  more  their  swords  crossed,  and  for  fully  a  minute  and  a  half  their 
blades  clashed,  as  if  in  sword-play.  Shackle's  face  was  distorted  with  rage 
and  fear,  and  his  arm  trembled,  while  the  other's  countenance  was  calm  and 
determined.  One  would  have  thought,  to  have  glanced  at  it,  that  he  was 
but  playing  with  his  adversary.  As  the  struggle  went  on  Shackle  grew  more 
and  more  furious,  for  the  very  calmness  of  his  opponent  seemed  to  uige  on 
his  passion. 

Finally,  he  could  bear  it  no  longer,  and  with  a  wild  yell  of  rage,  like  a 
madman,  he  made  a  powerful  lunge  at  Marshall.  The  latter  was  fully  pre- 
pared, and,  stepping  backward,  easily  parried  the  thrust,  and  then  springing 
forward,  gave  a  quick  one  in  return,  piercing  the  other's  shoulder.  From 
the  wound  the  hot  blood  flowed  freely,  as  with  a  howl  more  of  uncontrollable 
anger  than  pain.  Shackle  leaped  backward,  knocking  over  the  lamp,  and 
plunging  the  room  in  darkness  ! 

The  next  moment  Marshall  heard  the  crash  of  a  breaking  window,  and 
Shackle  had  sprung  through  it,  carrying  with  him  sash  and  glass.  Immedi- 
ately Marshall  started  to  follow,  but  as  he  stepped  on  the  window-sill,  he 
heard  two  shots  in  rapid  succession,  and  Shackle  fell  dead,  shot  through  the 
heart !  Springing  upon  the  ground,  Marshall  gazed  in  the  direction  of  the 
flashes,  and  saw  two  men,  still  grasping  their  smoking  pistols. 

In  answer  to  the  former's  inquiring  looks,  one  of  the  men  raised  his 
lantern,  and  unbuttoning  his  coat,  showed  his  badge  of  authority,  as  he 
said : 

"  We're  London  detectives.     He  was  a  bad  'un  !     A  dangerous  cove  !" 

'•  Yes,  he  was,"  replied  Marshall.  "I've  been  amusing  him,  myself,  inside, 
but  it  got  too  hot  for  him,  and  he  jumped  out.  But  it  seems,  from  appear- 
ances, that  he  jumped  from  the.  frying  pan  into  the^re.'" 

"Yes,"  replied  one  of  the  detectives,  smiling  grimly.  "We've  tracked 
him  over  half  the  continent,  but  we've  got  'im  at  last !  But  I  tell  you!  he 
was  a  sharp  'uu  !  Up  to  all  kinds  of  tricks  and  deviltry  !  He  got  away 
from  us  many  a  time  by  a  close  shave  !  But  I  think  we've  made  short  work 
of  'im  this  time  !" 

The  three  men  knelt  down  by  the  prostrate  villain  and  gazed  into  his  face. 
It  was  horribly  distorted  in  death,  with  hatred,  rage  and  fear  impressed  upon 
it.  And  as  used  to  death  as  these  men  were,  they  started  back  in  horror  at 
the  awful  sight !     As  one  of  the  detectives  said,  laconically : 


2Jf  THROUGH    WAR   TO  PEACE. 

"He's  dead!" 

Aud  so  he  was,  and  Jeremiah  Marshall's  revenge  was  complete ! 

Entering  the  house  again,  Marshall  took  his  overcoat  from  the  Iloor  and 
putting  it  on,  strode  out  and  stood  looking  at  the  body. 

"  We'll  take  care  of  him,"  said  one  of  the  detectives.  "There's  a  big 
reward  for  him  in  London,  dead  or  alive  !" 

"Very  well,"  replied  Marshall,  as  he  moved  away  in  the  gloom  toward 
tlie  Federal  camp. 

When  he  reached  the  Confederate  outpost  one  of  the  soldiers  cried  : 

"  Halt !    Who  goes  there?" 

"A  friend." 

"Advance,  friend,  and  give  the  countersign !"  cried  the  Confederate, 
bringing  his  gun  to  a  ready. 

"  Stonewall  Jackson !" 

"All  right.     Pass." 

Again  he  pressed  forward,  till  stopped  by  a  picket,  who  cried : 

"  Halt !     Who  goes  there?" 

"A  friend." 

"Advance,  friend,  and  give  the  countersign !" 

"It's  all  right,''  replied  Marshall. 

"  No,  it  is  not!  I  have  orders  to  hold  you  till  the  arrival  of  the  Corporal 
of  the  Guard." 

"  1  am  a  Federal  officer." 

"So  much  the  worse  for  you!  You  have  been  communicating  with  the 
enemy." 

"  How  do  you  know?" 

"You  have  been  watched,  and  seen  to  enter  their  lines.  It  is  needless  to 
talk  further,"  said  the  soldier,  seeing  Marshall  hesitate,  "my  orders  are 
strict.     I  am  compelled  to  call  the  Corporal  of  the  Guard." 

Then  he  called  out,  "  Corporal  of  the  Guard,  post  Number  Four!"  Then 
from  post  to  post,  along  the  line,  raug,  "  Corporal  of  the  Guard,  post  Num- 
ber Four  !"     "  Corporal  of  the  Guard,  post  Number  Four  !" 

The  Corporal  of  the  Guard  came  up  at  a  double-quick,  with  his  gun  at 
riglit-shoulder-shift,  and,  as  he  halted,  he  said  : 

"Well,  what's  up?" 

"  Major  Marshall  has  returned." 

"  Major,  I  must  arrest  you.  I  have  received  orders  to  do  so,"  said  the 
Corporal,  as  he  placed  his  hand  on  Marshall's  shoulder.  And  without.further 
parley,  Marshall  was  a  priaoner  of  war! 


© 


CHAPTER  VI. 

JUST   IN   THE  NICK    OP  TIME. 

HERE'S  a  dlviuity  that  shapes  our  euds, 
Roufe'h  hew  them  how  we  may. 

— Shakespeare. 


iKOtJXD  a  long  pine  table,  in  a  large  tent,  were  seated  thirteen 
officers,  equal  or  superior  in  rank  to  Major  Marshall,  con- 
stituting a  general  court-martial,  that  was  to  try  the  charges 
against  the  latter,  that  of  "holding  correspondence  with, 
and  giving  intelligence  to  the  enemy."  These  were  very 
serious  charge,  tor,  if  proven,  their  punishment,  in  time  of 
war,  was  by  death.  A  cour^-raartial  during  hostilities  is  entirely  a  different 
body  in  its  action  from  one  in  time  of  peace.  During  tranquility  a  trial  by 
court-martial  may  drag  along  for  weeks,  even  months,  befoie  arriving  at  a 
decision,  but  when  the  army  is  in  active  iiostilities  its  action  is  usually  short 
and  decisive.  And  then  again,  the  punishments  meted  out  are  very  differ- 
ent; in  peace  the  penalties  rarely  exceed  fine  or  imprisonment,  or,  in  the 
case  of  an  officer,  dismissal  from  the  service;  but  during  war  the  punish- 
ment is  frequently  by  death.  And  this  is  necessarily  right,  ior  a  soldier  or 
officer  may  in  tranqudity  give  information  to  outsiders  that  may  make  little 
or  no  material  difference,  but  which,  given  in  the  tace  of  an  enemy,  may 
thwart  a  generxl's  plans,  cost  the  army  thousands  of  men,  or  even  bring 
upon  it  defeat  or  ruin. 

The  officers  of  the  court-martial  were  seated  at  the  table  according  to  rank, 
the  president  at  its  head,  the  judge  advocate  opposite,  and  the  others  on  the 
right  and  left  of  the  former,  beginning  at  the  head  of  the  table  with  the 
highest  rank.  Marshall  was  seated  at  the  right  hand  of  the  judge  advocate 
(the  prisoner's  place,)  while  the  witnesses  were  standing  at  his  left. 

From  the  officers'  sober  faces,  and  their  constrained,  hesitating  manners 
— that  spoke  more  than  words — one  could  plainly  observe  that  it  was  an 
uncongenial  duty  fcr  them.  And  it  is  nearly  always  so,  for  in  the  army 
there  springs  up  among  the  soldiers  a  strong  friendship,  particularly  in  each 
regiment,  but  still  extending  through  the  entire  army,  engendered  by  the 
very  hardships,  dangers  and  scenes  of  death  they  have  passed  through  to- 
gether. But  in  Marshall's  case  it  was  more  so,  for  he,  by  his  good  hearted- 
ness.  genial  ways,  and  his  ready,  witty  remarks  and  answers,  had  won  a 
host  of  friends,  some  of  \r*hom  were  now  members  of  the  court-martial. 


26  THROUGH   WAR    TO    PEACE. 

The  court  being  called  to  order,  the  judge  advocate  read  the  order  for  its 
assQmbling,  also  the  charges  to  be  investigated,  then  followed  the  question 
whethe'-  or  not  the  prisoner  wished  to  challenge  any  member. 

"No,  I  do  not,"  replied  Marshall,  calmly,  "I  am  perfectly  satisfied  with 
every  officer  chosen." 

The  members  of  the  court  were  then  sworn,  followed  by  the  reading  of 
the  charges  to  the  prisoner,  and  the  latter's  arraignment  by  the  question: 

"  Major  Marshall,  you  have  heard  the  charges  preferred  against  you  ;  how 
say  you— guilty  or  not  guilty  V" 

"  Not  guilty,"  replied  Marshall,  and  the  trial  began. 

There  were  three  principal  witnesses  against  Marshall,  the  picket  who  had 
arrested  him,  and  two  police  guards. 

One  of  the  latter  was  the  first  sworn,  and  testified  that  he  had  had  his 
attention  drawn  to  Major  Marshall  by  seeing  him  pass  their  pickets  and 
move  directly  toward  the  enemy.  His  Suspicions  were  aroused,  so  he  fol- 
lowed him,  first  calling  another  guard  to  accompany  him.  "We  approached," 
the  witness  continued,  "an  outpost— or  rather  scouting  party — of  the 
enemy,  and  after  a  short  parley  passed.  We  could  not  hear  the  conversation, 
as  we  were  too  far  away,  but  we  supposed  he  gave  their  countersign,  for 
the  Confederates  seemed  satisfied.  We  then  notified  the  proper  authority 
of  Marshall's  strange  action,  who  ordered  the  pickets  to  arrest  him  if  he 
returned.  After  this  we  hid  in  the  darkness,  as  near  the  Con  federates  as  we 
could  without  attracting  their  attention.  After  about  three  quarters  of  an 
hour  Major  Marshall  returned,  and  as  he  was  passing  the  enemy's  scouts 
we  heard  one  of  them  demand  the  countersign,  which  he  undoubtedly  gave, 
for  one  of  them  replied,  'All  right,  pass.'  " 

The  other  police  guard  now  gave  his  testimony,  corroborating  that  of  his 
comrade. 

The  sentinel  then  gave  the  particulars  of  the  arrest,  after  which  several 
other  witnesses  were  examined,  but  their  evidence  was  of  little  value. 

Then,  amid  an  almost  breathless  silence,  Marshall  arose  and  briefly  stated 
his  side  of  the  case.  But  it  was  evident  from  his  careless  manner  and 
words  that  he  had  no  hopes  of  acquittal.  For  from  the  moment  he  learned 
that  he  had  been  followed  and  watched  by  the  guards  he  yielded  to  his  fate. 
He  stated  that  his  reason  for  going  to  the  cottage  beyond  the  Federal  lines 
was  to  rescue  a  lady  friend  from  a  scoundrel,  who  had  decoyed  her  there  by 
a  falsehood  about  a  pretended  sick  friend.  He  further  said  that  he  had 
released  the  lady  and  become  engaged  in  a  duel  with  swords  with  her  former 
captor.  That  the  latter,  becoming  hard  pressed,  had  sprung  from  the  \vm- 
dow  but  before  he  could  escape  he  had  been  mortally  wounded  by  two 
English  detectives,  who  were  searching  for  him  for  the  crime  of  murder. 

"But  who  and  where  was  the  lady?'"  the  judge  advocate  asked.  She 
would  be  an  important  witness  in  his  favor. 

This  question  he  refused  to  answer  unless  the  court  would  guarantee  that 
no  charges  should  be  preferred  against  her.  But  this  it  did  not  h-ive  the 
power  to  promise,  as  he  very  well  knew.  The  judge  advocate  urged  and 
entreated  him  to  reveal  the  lady's  name,  but  in  vain,  for  in  his  resolution 
not  to  implicate  Bertha  he  remained  firm,  nobly  declaring  that  if  ho  must 


THROUGH    WAR   TO  RE  ICE.  27 

suffer,  he  would  not  bring  her  into  trouble. 

But  what  had  become  of  the  English  detectives?  suggested  a  member. 
They  would  be  excellent  witnesses  in  his  favor. 

He  did  not  know  where  they  now  were,  but  one  of  them  had  informed 
him  that  they  were  going  to  New  York.  Concerning  them  he  spoke  freely, 
describing  them,  giving  their  names  and  other  particulars.  But  this  infor- 
mation was  of  no  value,  for  no  one  knew  where  they  were  to  be  found. 

At  last,  animated  by  the  warm  zeal  the  others  had  manifested  in  his  favor, 
Marshall  arose  and  made  a  brilliant,  logical  argument  in  his  own  behalf. 
But,  taken  as  a  whole,  it  was  a  poor  defense,  and  no  one  knew  it  better  than 
did  Marshall  himself. 

Then  followed  the  finding  of  the  court,  but  we  shall  not  go  into  details, 
but  simply  say  that,  notwithstanding  Marshall's  weak  defense,  there  were 
three  who  voted  "Not  guilty."  They  were  willing  to  believe  his  simple 
story — implausible  as  it  may  have  seemed  to  the  others — without  asking  for 
further  proof.  But  the  other  ten  members  made  the  necessary-  two-third 
vote  which  is  required  to  determine  the  conviction  of  a  prisoner,  when,  as 
in  this  case,  the  law  absolutely  and  without  any  discretion  in  the  court,  con- 
demns him  to  suffer  death. 

As  the  guards  led  Marshall  away,  he  appeared  by  far  the  most  calm 
and  unconcei'ned  person  present,  and  when  he  reached  the  open  air  and  his 
old  village  friends  plied  him  with  questions  concerning  the  result,  he  replied 
coolly,  and  with  a  recklessness  so  characteristic  of  the  man  and  the  life  of 
danger  and  vicissitudes  he  had  led  for  years. 

"Well,  boys,  they've  sort  of  annihilated,  kind  of  Vandalized  me  !" 

Marshall  was  placed  in  confinement  and  closely  guarded  till  the  day  for 
the  execution  arrived,  but  five  days  after  his  sentence. 

It  was  a  warm,  clear  day,  toward  the  close  of  September ;  the  sky  formed 
a  bright  blue  arch  above — except  for  an  occasional  white  cloud  floating  here 
and  there — while  a  warm  breeze  swept  gently  along  the  Shenandoah  Valley, 
giving  as  yet  no  signs  of  the  approaching  winter,  when  the  somber  cortege 
containing  Marshall  and  his  coffin  in  an  ambulance,  surrounded  by  a  guard, 
started  for  the  place  chosen  for  the  execution,  about  half  a  mile  from  the 
camp.  Arriving  near  the  spot,  Marshall  left  the  ambulance,  and  walked 
with  a  firm  step  to  the  ground  selected.  Here  a  grave  had  been  dug, 
and  near  it  was  placed  the  coSin,  while  Marshall  took  his  place  beside 
it.  In  front  of  him  stood  the  firing  party,  two  from  each  regiment,  half 
of  whom  were  held  in  reserve,  while  outside  of  this  was  drawn  up- 
forming  three  sides  of  a  hollow  square — the  long  gleaming  lines  of  an 
entire  division.  Near  Marshall's  right  stood  a  small  group  of  nipu,  and 
the  deep  shadow  of  gloom  on  their  countenances  showed  that  they  were 
more  than  ordinary  observers.  They  were  his  old* friends  from  St.  Arlyle 
A  few  minutes  before,  each  had  shaken  hands  with  him  and  bade  him  a  sad 
farewell.  During  his  imprisonment  they  had — led  by  Charles  Landon — made 
every  effort  in  their  power  to  effect  his  release,  but  in  vain. 

On  every  face  in  that  huge  throng  there  was  a  solemn,  sober  expression, 
for  although  amid  the  shock  of  battle  a  soldier  may  see  a  comrade  fall  dead 
or  wounded,  and,  in  his  excitement  and  eagerness  to  press  on  to  victory, 


28  THROUGH    JVJB   TO  PEACE. 

may  hardly  notice  it,  yet  in  his  calm  moments  to  see  a  comrade  executed  in 
cold  blood  savors  too  much  of  the  feeling  that  it  is  murder. 

"When  Marshall  had  taken  his  place  near  the  open  grave,  the  provost  mar- 
shal stepped  forward  and  read  the  sentence.  His  voice  trembled,  while  his 
eyes  grew  moist,  for  he  and  Marshall  were  old  friends  !  When  he  finished 
reading  he  approached  the  accused,  and  as  he  shook  hands  with  him  said 
sadly,  as  he  brushed  away  a  tear  with  his  coat  sleeve  ; 

"  Marshall,  old  friend,  this  is  a  hard  duty  for  me  to  perform  !  I  wish  to 
heaven  there  was  a  way  to  escape  it !" 

"  Never  mind,  Ned,  old  fellow."  said  Marshall,  coolly,  "you  can't  help 
it.     So  dun't  take  it  to  heart  so." 

"I  wish  from  the  bottom  of  my  heart,"  replied  the  other,  "I  could  lielp 
you  !" 

'Yes,  I  know  you  would.  Thank  j'ou,  Ned,  my  dear  feliow,  and  don't 
forget  the  message  for  my  folks  across  the  sea.     Farewell !" 

"  No,  I'll  not  forget  it !     Goodbye  !" 

Then  the  usual  question  was  asked,  if  he  had  anything  to  say  why  the 
sentence  should  not  be  executed. 

He  raised  his  head,  and,  turning  his  gaze  toward  the  men,  said  in  a  calm, 
clear  voice,  without  the  tremble  of  a  muscle : 

"  Fellow  soldiers,  I  wish  to  say  but  a  few  words  to  you.  I  am  satisfied  with 
the  decision,  for  I  cannot  well  see  how  it  could  have  been  otherwise.  For 
events  have  transpired  to  seemingly  prove  ray  guilt,  till  it  looked  as  if  fate 
liiid  willed  it  thus.  But  through  all  my  life,  with  all  my  faults — and  I  know 
tliey  are  not  a  few — I  have  never  proved  false  to  the  flag  I  swore  to  defend  ' 
I  had  hoped  that  if  ever  I  met  death  on  the  field  of  strife  it  would  be  amid 
the  shock  of  battle,  fighting  a  common  foe.  For  the  dearest  wish  of  my 
heart  was  that  when  all  was  over  with  me — to  have  the  news  sent  over  to 
my  dear  mother,  far  across  the  dark  blue  waves,  in  Erin's  isle,  that  her  son 
had  proved  true  to  the  trust  reposed  in  him.  But  it  has  been  willed  other- 
wise, and  I  submit !  So,  comrades,  with  my  friendship  to  you  all  and  with 
ennaity  to  none,  I  bid  you  a  last  farewell !" 

For  several  moments  after  Marshall  ceased  speaking  there  was  a  deathlike 
silence,  and  amid  it  the  officer  of  the  firing  party  stepped  forward  and  drew 
his  sword.  Every  eye  was  fixed  on  the  prisoner,  as  with  throbbing  hearts 
and  bated  breaths  they  waited,  in  awful  silence,  expecting  the  next  moment 
to  see  him  fall,  riddled  with  bullets,  as  the  officer  gave  the  command : 
"  Keudy — Aim " 

At  that  instant  there  was  confusion  in  the  ranks  of  the  division,  attract- 
ing general  attention,  and  the  next  moment  they  parted  and  a  horseman 
rode  rapidly  through  the  gap  and  bounded  in  front  of  the  firing  squad  !  As 
he  reined  up  his  horse  lie  cried^:  "  Carry — ArmaP'' 

There  vpas  a  hesitation  of  several  moments,  as  the  men  stood  spell-bound, 
gazing  with  woudf.r  at  the  officer,  who,  with  the  glittering  stars  of  a  major 
general,  had  so  suddenly  appeared  before  them.  Then  on  many  a  lip  trem- 
bled the  question  :  "  Who  is  he?"  But  as  he  repeated  the  command  in  a 
clear,  ringing  voice,  there  was  an  indescribable  magnetism  in  it,  as  they 
recognized  the  man  whose  presence  had  sent  a  <iirill  through  them  on  many 


THROUGH    WAR   TO   PEACE.  W 

a  blood}'  field.     It  iras  General  George  B.  McCIellan! 

When  the  order  was  obeyed,  the  General  said  briefly:  "E%'idence  has 
been  received  whu'h  entirely  exonerates  Major  Marshall.  He  will  therefoie 
report  to  his  regiment." 

Then,  turning  his  horse,  the  General  bounded  away,  as  a  cheei  broke 
from  the  firing  squad,  which  he  gracefully  acknowledged  by  raising  his  hat. 
This  was  the  signal  for  a  general  burst  from  the  division,  which  grew  into  a 
perfect  storm  or  cheers,  as  he  galloped  through  the  line  These  were  fol- 
lowed by  storm  after  stoim  of  huzzas,  till  their  dashing  commander  rode 
out  of  view. 

Meanwhile  Marshall  stood  bewildered  with  ,oy,  like  one  in  a  dream,  till 
the  men  broke  ranks  and  crowded  aiound  him.  The  first  to  spring  to  his 
side  were  his  village  friends,  and  as  Charlie  Landon  grasped  his  hand  he 
exclaimed  : 

"TliHuk  heaven  for  this  !     All's  well  that  ends  well !" 

"Yes,"  said  Marshall,  "God  moves  in  His  mysterious  way,  but  He  does 
all  things  for  the  best !" 

Then,  as  the  air  rang  with  cheers,  as  his  comrades  almost  caught  him  in 
their  arms,  his  eyes  for  the  first  time  grew  moist  with  emotion,  that  fear 
had  been  powerless  to  effect. 

The  explanation  of  Marshall's  rescue  is  soon  told.  But  three  days  before 
the  time  fixed  for  the  execution.  Bertha  heard  of  it  for  the  first  time. 
Though  it  filled  her  breast  with  amazement  and  grief,  it  did  not  overpower 
her,  for  she  resolved  to  save  him.  She  immediately  attempted  to  see  the 
commander-in-chief.  Although  several  times  unsuccessful,  she  at  last,  by 
her  womanly,  indomitable  perseverance,  succeeded  in  accomplishing  what 
his  other  friends  had  failed  to  do.  She  told  her  story  so  simplj'  and  with 
such  earnest  sorrow  that  it  won  the  general's  favor.  But  she  was  not  sat- 
isfied till  she  had  obtained  the  evidence  of  the  detectives,  who  were  now  in 
New  York.  Then  the  general  was  satisfied,  and  with  that  sense  of  justice 
so  characteristic  of  him,  immediately  sprang  on  his  horse  and  I'ode  rapidly 
for  the  place  of  execution,  .where  he  arrived  just  in  the  nick  of  time. 

For  about  a  month  after  the  Battle  of  Antietam  the  Army  of  the  Potomac 
lay  encamped  on  the  field,  then  again  came  the  order  to  move  on  to  the 
Confederate  capital.  On  the  26th  of  October  McCIellan  began  to  advance, 
and  almost  at  the  same  time  the  Confederates  began  moving  to  the  same 
point.  It  was  a  grand  spectacle — this  race  between  the  two  great  armies ; 
the  Union  forces  on  the  east  side  of  the  Blue  Ridge  Mountains,  and  the 
Confederates  on  the  west,  each  making  every  effort  to  reach  Richmond  first ! 
And  eagerly  the  whole  country  v?atched  for  the  result. 

But  on  the  night  of  the  7th  of  November  occurred  an  event  that  thwarted 
all  McClellan's  plans.  On  that  night,  amid  a  terrible  snow  storm,  he  and 
General  Buruside  were  seated  in  the  former's  tent,  when  General  Bucking- 
ham, a  messenger  from  the  War  Department,  arrived  and  placed  in  McClel- 
lan's hands  an  order  removing  hiiu  from  the  command  of  the  army,  and 
appointing  Buruside  in  his  place.  McCIellan  read  the  order  without  a  sign 
of  emotion,  then  as  he  gave  it  to  his  former  lieutenant  he  said  calmly : 
"  Burnside,  you  couimauil  the  army." 


so  THROUGH    WAR   TO   PEACE. 

General  McClellaii  was  ordered  to  report  himself  at  Trenton,  in  New  Jei- 
sey,  so  he  immediately  made  preparations  for  his  departure,  Thai  night  he 
issued  an  address  to  his  troops,  full  of  kindness  and  regard.  And  the  next 
day  he  visited  the  various  camps  and  reviewed  the  officers  ana  men  foi  the 
last  time.  It  watt  a  sad  day  for  the  army.  For  never,  perhaps,  m  the 
world's  history,  were  men  more  attached  to  their  ^-ommander,  and  on  their 
leader's  part,  Csesar's  Gallic  legions  were  not  dearer  to  him  nor  the  army  of 
France  dearer  to  Napoleon  than  was  the  Army  of  the  Potomac  to  McClellan. 
For  he  had  formed  it,  and  watched  it  with  strongest  pride,  as  it  grew  in 
power  and  perfection.  Then,  with  it  he  had  shared  its  triumphs  and  its 
defeats,  till  it  had  grown  to  be  the  idol  of  his  heart. 

As  the  General,  with  his  staff,  rode  rapidly  through  the  raulis,  gracefully 
recognizing  and  bidding  farewell  to  the  men,  "the  cries  and  aemonstrations 
of  the  men  (says  an  officer  who  was  there)  were  beyond  all  bounds — wild, 
impassionate  and  unrestrained.  Disregarding  all  military  forms,  they 
rushed  from  their  ranks  and  tlironged  around  him,  with  the  bitterest  com- 
plaints against  those  who  had  removed  from  command  their  beloved 
loader." 

The  next  morning  McGlellan  boarded  the  train  for  Warrenton  When  the 
cars  reached  the  j  unction— where  there  were  several  divisions  drawn  up  in  line 
— a  salute  from  several  batteries  was  fired.  Then,  as  the  men  caught  sight 
of  their  former  commander  on  the  platform,  the  wildest  enthusiasm  pre- 
vailed. The  cheers  and  cries  were  almost  deafening,  as  the  men  actually 
rushed  from  the  ranks  and  crowded  around  the  General,  to  catch  a  last 
gliinpse  of  him  and  hear  his  parting  words.  Amid  a  lull  in  the  .storm  of 
cheers,  and  just  as  the  train  was  starting,  he  stepped  to  the  edge  of  the 
platform  and  said : 

•'Comrades,  I  wish  you  to  stand  by  General  Burnside,  as  you  have  stood 
by  me,  and  ail  will  be  well.     Good-bye." 

It  was  the  signal  for  a  wilder  burst  of  cheers  than  ever,  which  continued 
till  the  train  was  lost  from  view. 

General  Burnside  fought  the  Battle  of  Fredericksburg,  in  which  the  Fed- 
eral forces  were  unsuccessful,  and  then  once  more  the  commander  of  the 
Army  of  the  Potomac  was  changed,  and  General  Joseph  Hooker  became  its 
chief. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE  BATTLE   OF   CHANCELLOKSVILLE. 

H^HE  sun  had  set: 

^^    The  leaves  with  dew  were  wet; 
Down  lell  a  bloody  dusk 
On  the  woods  that  second  of  May, 
Where  Stonewall's  corps,  like  a  beast  of  prey, 
Tore  through,  with  angry  tusk." 

JERENELY  was  drawing  to   a  close   a  lovely  afternoon  on  the 

second  of  May,  1863,  amid  the  green  iiIUs  and  vales  along  the 

Rappahannock  River,  in  o'd  Virginia.      The  sun  was  setting  in 

all  his  fiery  splendor  over  the  lofty  summits  of  the  far  away 

Blue  Ridge,  bathing  them  with  a  rosy  hue.      The  sky  abov« 

was  streaked  with  streamers  of   the  vividest  crimson,  whose 

edges  were  bordered  with  waves  of 

gold,    that  gently  faded   into   the 

brightest  blue.       Here  and  there, 

amid  the  sea  of  azure,  rested  small 

white  clouds,  with  just  the  faintest 

rosy  tinge,  like  fairy  sails  lyfng  at 

anchor  on   some  peaceful  ocean's 

breast. 

Away  to  the  west  lay  the  broad 
waters  of  the  Potomac,  gleaming 
in  the  fading  sunlight,  while  spread- 
ing south-westward  from  the  river 
were  rolling  hills  and  small  plains, 
covered  with  the  greenest  carpet 
of  spring-time.  Between  precipi- 
tous bluffs,  several  miles  from  the 
Potomac  and  nearly  parallel  with  it, 
ran  the  Rappahannock  River.  On 
the  south  bank  of  the  river  stood  the  town  of  Fredericksburg,  while  back  of 
it  arose  Marye's  Heights,  rendered  famous,  but  a  few  months  before,  in 
the  Battle  of  Fredericksburg,  when  division  after  division  of  the  Federal 
army  had  been  hurled  again  and  again,  but  in  vain,  against  the  blazing 
stone  wall  near  its  crest.  And  now  from  the  same  heights  gleamed  and 
flashed  in  the  evening  sunlight— as  if  bidding  defiance  to  all  beneath — the 


32  THROUGH    WJR   TO  PEACE. 

bright  cannons  of  the  Confederates.  Forming  a  line  with,  and  extending 
from  each  side  of  the  height,  and  almost  hidden  in  the  ravines  and  foliage, 
had  lain,  the  day  before,  the  army  of  General  Lee,  62,000  strong.  But  dur- 
ing the  previous  night  several  divisions  of  it  had  marched  mysteriously  away. 
Where  were  they  now?  We  shall  soon  see — even  before  the  light  of  this 
day  fades  into  darkness  ! 

A  few  miles  up  the  river  above  Fredericlisburg,  was  the  large  forest  of  the 
Wilderness ;  and  in  its  midst,  in  several  open  glens,  in  the  form  of  a  huge 
U,  with  its  limbs  pointing  toward  the  river,  lay  the  Army  of  the  Potomac. 
On  every  side,  the  army  was  surrounded  by  the  trees  and  thicli  undergrowth 
of  the  woods,  the  only  modes  of  egress  and  ingress  being  several  narrow 
roads,  which  were  guarded  by  artillery  and  infantry. 

There  had  been  skirmishing  with  the  enemy  during  the  day,  but  the  mou 
were  now  resting.  Their  arms  were  stacked,  and  the  soldiers  were  engaged 
in  cooking  their  evening  meal,  as  the  low  hum  of  their  voices  sounded  over 
the  field.  The  sun  had  sunk,  till  it  appeared  a  great  fiery  ball  in  the  west. 
The  last  beams  of  day  were  struggling  amid  the  dark  foliage  of  the  forest, 
while  out  of  it  was  floating,  from  the  wild  flowers  and  sweet  scented  climbers^ 
the  soft,  balmy  breath  of  May. 

Suddenly  there  was  a  commotion  in  the  forest  on  the  right  of  the  army. 
Large  numbers  of  birds  were  frightened  from  the  trees  and  flew  with  a  shrill 
cry  over  the  field.  These  were  followed  by  hundreds  of  deer,  hares,  rabbits 
and  other  game,  which  sprang  over  the  works  and  rushed  in  wild  confusion 
through  the  ranks.  "  VVhat  does  it  mean?"  exclaimed  the  men.  But  the 
next  moment  they  were  answered  by  the  blast  of  bugles  and  a  heavy  burst 
of  cheers  and  yells,  instantly  followed  by  a  deadly  storm  of  bullets.  Then 
they  knew  that  the  woods  were  filled  with  armed  men,  and  that  the  terrible 
"Stonewall  "  Jackson  with  20,000  men  had  marched  around  the  army  and 
fallen  like  an  avalanche  upon  their  flank  !  As  large  numbers  of  the  unarmed 
and  bewildered  men  fell  dead  and  wounded  before  the  rain  of  bullets,  the 
assaulting  legions,  with  wild  yells,  sprang  from  the  forest,  and  the  bloody 
Battle  of  Chancellorsville  had  begun. 

As  the  triumphant  Confederates  swept  over  the  field,  pouring  volley  after 
volley  upon  the  bewildered  men,  the  wildest  confusion  prevailed,  as  they 
fled  in  every  direction,  not  even  waiting  long  enough  to  pick  up  their  arms. 
In  vain  did  their  officers  rush  amid  the  shattered  columns  and  attempt  to 
rally  them  !  It  was  a  rout,  not  even  excelled  by  that  of  Bull  Run.  And 
when  a  regiment  did  halt  it  was  torn  to  pieces  by  the  merciless  fire  of  the 
on-rushing  host.  At  last  Jackson's  corps  reached  the  breastworks  near  the 
Chancellorsville  House,  which  were  defended  by  a  brigade  of  Infantry,  and 
here  a  desperate  resistance  was  made,  but  it  lasted  only  for  a  short  time, 
for  the  victorious  Confederates  were  not  to  be  stopped,  as  with  a  fearful 
yell  they  sprang  over  the  works  and  crushed  the  brigade  with  their  superior 
numbers.  The  last  remnant  of  the  right  wing  was  now  shattered,  and  fled 
in  the  utmost  disorder.  The  routed  troops  had  nearly  reached  Hooker's 
headquarters,  and  the  on-rush  of  the  faigiti-ves  had  almost  the  effect  of  an 
invading  array.  The  situation  had  grown  desperate.  Something  must  be 
done,  and  done  quickly,  or  the  Army  is  lost.      A  new  line  of  battle  must  be 


THROUGH    WAR    TO   PEACE.  3S 

formed,  s©  Hooker  pushes  forward  fresh  troops.  And  one  of  his  i  onnmand- 
ers,  Pleasanton,  arrives  with  his  artillery  at  Hazel  Grove,  just  as  the 
demoralized  regiments  are  rushing  wildly  past.  Close  behind  them  are 
coming,  on  the  double-quick,  Jackson's  legions,  like  mighty  v^'alls  of  steel  — 
twenty  thousand  strong.  It  is  a  momentous  and  critical  hour,  filled  with 
the  fate  of  an  army.  General  Pleasanton  instantly  recognizes  the  desperate 
situation,  as  he  turns  to  a  Pennsylvania  battalion  of  cavalry,  which  has  jus 
arrived,  and  cries  wildly  : 

"  Major,  you  must  charge  the  enemy  1  Save  me  ten  minutes  to  get  my 
gunb  ready.     Go,  Xeenan  !" 

And  the  brave  young  officer,  as  a  smile  Qits  over  his  face,  answers : 

"I  will." 

Keenan  knows  it  is  a  fearful  chaige,  and  that  he  and  his  brave  three  hun- 
dred will  be  riding  down  to  certain  death.  But  the  young  officer — in  peace 
as  gentle  and  soft-hearted  as  a  girl — never  hesitates,  and  as  he  turns  his 
horse  he  says,  laughingly,  "Good-bye!'  Then  he  cries:  "Cavalry,  charge!" 
The  next  instant  the  three  hundred  gallant  troopers  are  riding  rapidly  upon 
the  twenty  thousand  foes  !  It  is  an  awful  duty  before  them,  but  not  one  of 
them  shi  inks  from  it.  On  they  rush !  They  cut  through  the  enemy's  skir- 
mishers like  a  tempest,  heedless  of  the  score  or  more  saddles  that  are 
emptied  !  And  then  what  an  awful  sight  appears  before  them  !  Line  after 
line  of  Jackson's  legions  coming  at  the  double-quick,  while  amid  them  are 
gleaming  in  the  moonlight  thousands  upon  thousands  of  bristling  bayonets  ! 
But  the  brave  three  hundred  halt  not!  and  Keenan  flings  his  cap  high  into 
the  air,  and  shouts  wildly  :  "Sabres  !" 

Instantly  every  sabre  leaps  high  into  the  air,  and  the  next  moment  the 
three  hundred  horses  are  spurred,  till  they  leap  right  into  the  wall  of  bay- 
onets !  The  advancing  lines  are  shocked  and  retarded  for  nearly  a  mile. 
Then  a  desperate  struggle  follows,  but  it  lasts  only  for  a  few  minutes,  then 
all  is  over!  And  the  gallant  three  hundred  are  lying  weltering  in  their 
blood,  on  the  field  with  their  dead  commander.  But  ever  around  their  deed 
will  cling  a  heroic  lustre,  for  as  nobly  did  they  fulfill  their  duty  as  in  that 
by-gone  cycle,  on  the  field  at  Thermopj'lee,  did  Leonidas  and  his  brave  three 
hundred  Spartans,  while  in  defense  of  their  country,  fall  fighting  to  a  man, 
against  the  mighty  Persian  host  of  Xerxes.  They  fell,  but  their  heroic  deed 
will  ever  live  in  history  as  one  of  the  brightest  examples  of  American  valor ! 

Again  the  Confederate  legions  are  pressing  onward.  But  Keenan  and  his 
brave  comrades  have  not  fallen  in  vain  !  For  more  than  ten  minutes  have 
elapsed,  and  General  Pleasanton's  cannons  are  in  position,  pouring  a  mur- 
derous fire  on  the  advancing  foe. 

Soon  after,  other  artillery  and  infantry  are  added  to  these,  and  at  last  the 
enemy  is  checked. 

It  was  now  nine  o'clock  at  night.  Although  the  Confederates  had  been 
halted,  and  the  heavy  firing  had  ceased,  it  was  but  the  lull  of  preparation 
before  a  more  desperate  and  bloody  struggle;  for  both  sides  were  hurrying 
reinforcements  to  the  front.  It  was  at  this  very  time  (while  forming  for  the 
contest)  that  the  Co"hfederates  met  with  a  heavy  and  irreparable  loss. 
Stonewall  Jackson,  the  leader  and  originator  of  this  brilliant  night  attack^ 


84  TH BOUGH   WAR    TO    PEACE. 

fell  mortally  wounded.  He  was  shot — while  retiirniug  from  a  reconnoisance 
— by  his  own  men,  who  in  the  moonlight  mistook  him  and  his  staff  fur  a 
body  of  the  enemy's  cavalry. 

Upon  the  fall  of  Stonewall  Jackson,  General  Hill  assumed  command,  and 
a  short  time  after  the  desultory  tire,  which  had  been  constantly  maintained, 
burst  almost  at  once,  as  if  by  tlie  preconcerted  action  of  both  armies,  into 
wild  sheets  of  flame. 

This  night-battle  was  a  grand,  terrible  and  soul-stirring  scene,  that  in 
after  j'ears  never  could  fade  or  grow  dim  in  the  minds  of  the  soldiers  who 
took  part  in  the  ghastly  drama  of  that  eventful  night !  Although  it  was 
approaching  midnight,  it  was  not  dark,  for  a  full  moon  shed  its  silvery  light 
over  the  raging  conflict.  And  on  the  calm  night  air,  the  roar  of  over  a  hun- 
dred cannons  and  the  thousands  of  musketry  reverberated  with  awful 
distinctness;  the  sky  above  was  ablaze  with  the  lurid  flames  of  the  artillery, 
while  on  the  field,  in  the  flashing  light,  lay  the  mangled  and  bloody  bodies 
of  the  slain ! 

Shortly  before  midnight  the  firing  began  to  slacken,  and  soon  after  ceased. 
When  the  sound  of  the  last  gun  had  died  away,  the  men  lay  down  on  their 
arms  to  I'est,  but  during  the  few  hours  that  remained  before  daylight  few  of 
them  closed  their  eyes  in  sleep.  For  their  brains  were  far  too  excited  by 
the  awful  and  weird  scenes  they  had  just  passed  through  to  seek  repose. 
And  when  their  thoughts  did  wander  from  the  scenes  of  that  eventful 
Saturday  night,  they  were  to  many  a  more  happy  Saturday  night  they  had 
spent  in  the  peaceful  homes  far  away. 

At  daylight  the  next  morning,  the  battle  began  by  the  Confederates  under 
General  Stuart — who  had  taken  command  after  the  wounding  of  General 
Hill  by  a  shell — seizing  a  commanding  and  elevated  position  near  the 
Chancellorsville  House,  which  the  Federals,  through  a  llunder,  had  aban- 
doned. Stuart,  upon  seizing  this  vantage  ground,  immediately  began 
covering  it  with  artillery,  but  in  doing  so,  he  became  engaged  with  the  rear 
of  Hooker's  army.  This  was  the  signal  for  the  renewal  of  the  battle,  and 
in  a  few  minutes  it  was  raging  along  the  entire  line  ! 

But  we  shall  not  describe  the  battle  around  Chancellorsville,  but  turn  our 
attention  to  another  part  of  the  field,  eleven  miles  further  down  the  river, 
where  General  Sedgewick's  corps  was  stationed,  of  which  the  St.  Arlyle 
regiment  formed  a  part.  Sedgewick's  corps,  during  the  night,  had  crossed 
the  river  and  entered  Fredericksburg,  driving  the  enemy's  skirmishers  be- 
fore them,  and  were  now,  at  the  first  beams  of  day,  making  preparations 
to  attack  the  frowning  heights  of  Fredericksburg. 

As  soon  as  daylight  breaks,  a  brigade  of  Sedgewick's  men  advance  up  the 
sloping  side  of  the  height.  The  sun  is  shining,  but  a  fog  hangs  over  the 
hillside,  and  as  the  men  advance  beneath  it,  on  that  calm  Sabbath  morning, 
a  host  of  sad  memories  are  flooding  through  their  brains,  of  another  day, 
a  few  months  before,  when  they  charged  the  frowning  heights  again  and 
again  till  the  glacis  was  covered  with  their  dead  and  wounded  comrades, 
but,  alas  !  in  vain  ! 

All  is  still  as  death,  until  they  have  almost  reached  the  stone  wall  near 
the  hill's  crest,  then  there  is  a  wild  burst  of  flame,  a  deafening  roar  and  a 


THRO  UGH    WAR    TO   PEACE.  S5 

tenible  shower  of  iron  and  lead  is  hurled  through  their  ranks  !  Kepeatedly 
they  attempt  to  carry  the  breastworks,  but  their  ranks  are  thinned  and  torn 
asunder  by  the  merciless  fire,  and  they  are  forced  to  fall  back,  leaving  the 
ground  covered  w|th  their  dead  and  wounded. 

But  ere  long,  they  are  rallied  again,  at  the  foot  of  the  hill,  and,  being 
ht'uvily  reinforced,  once  more  advance  to  the  attack. 

In  the  center  of  the  attacking  column  has  been  placed  the  St.  Arlyle  reg- 
iment. 

The  men  as  they  press  forward,  meet  with  a  light  fire,  till  within  about 
four  hundred  j'ards  of  the  wall,  then  the  guns  on  the  hill  pour  a  terrific 
volley  of  canister  and  grape  upon  them,  tearing  huge  gaps  in  their  ranks, 
but  they  bravely  close  the  breaches  and  press  onward  at  a  run.  Charlie 
Landon  is  wounded  in  the  arm,  but  he  is  cheering  his  men  on,  heedless  of 
the  storm  of  death.  And  near  him  is  Marshall,  who  has  all  the  while  been 
conspicuous  for  his  bravery.  Each  moment  the  fire  grows  heavier,  the  air 
is  filled  with  deadly  missiles,  but  on  the  men  rush,  though  the  ground  is 
covered  with  their  slain.  At  last  the  stone  wall  is  reached,  and  regardless 
of  the  withering  fire,  the  Federals  leap  over  it  and  drive  the  enemy  from 
their  position. 

Among  the  first  to  vault  over  the  wall  are  Landon  and  Marshall,  but  as 
the  latter  reaches  the  ground  he  is  struck  in  the  breast  by  a  bullet,  but  ere 
he  falls  Charlie  Landon  catches  him  in  his  arms.  And  as  Landon  lays  him 
tenderly  on  the  ground  the  wounded  man  says  : 

"  Leave  me.  Colonel.  They  want  you  up  there  !"  waving  his  hand  toward 
the  hill's  cre.'^t. 

"  My  poor  fellow,  it's  hard  to  leave  you  so,  when  perhaps  you  are  bleed- 
ing to  death,  and  I  could  help  you,"  said  Charlie,  sadly,  as  he  looked  down 
tenderly  into  the  wounded  man's  face.  "  But  duty  forces  me  onward,  and  I 
suppose  I  must  obey,"  he  continued,  as  he  reluctantly  placed  the  other's 
head  on  a  knapsack  for  a  pillow.  And  as  he  arose,  hesitatingly,  there  was 
a  desperate  struggle  going  on  in  his  tender  heart,  between  pity  and  duty. 

♦'  Yes,  leave  me.  Colonel;  they  need  you  up  there." 

"  I  suppose  I  must !     But  it  is  bitter  to  do  so !" 

The  regiment  had  already  passed  them,  and  there  was  not  a  moment  to 
lose,  for  already  the  men  were  looking  for  their  leader,  so  Charlie  said  hur- 
riedly yet  tenderly,  as  he  quickly  applied  a  wet  pledget,  covered  with  tannic 
acid,  to  the  wound,  "My  dear  fellow,  I'll  be  back  to  you  the  moment  the 
struggle  is  over.     Good-bye  !" 

"Thank  you,  my  boy  !  Good-bye  !"  said  the  wounded  soldier,  calmly,  as 
the  other  bounded  away. 

The  stone  wall  and  the  rifle-pits  have  been  captured  and  cleared,  but  the 
cannons  on  the  hill  are  still  vomiting  with  renewed  thunder  their  shot  and 
shell !  But  up  the  brave  fellows  go,  though  their  ranks  are  cut  through  and 
through.  But  nothing  can  daunt  the  courage  and  enthusiasm  of  these 
heroic  men  !  At  last  the  hill  top  is  reached,  and  amid  wild  cheers  the  bat- 
teries are  taken.  And  in  a  few  moments  more  the  stars  and  stripes  are 
floating  proudly  on  the  crest ! 

After  capturing  the  Heights,  the  Federals  pursued  the  enemy  for  nearly 


36  THROUGH    WAR   TO   PEACE. 

two  miles;  but  the  Confederates  being  strongly  reinforced,  they  were  com- 
pelled to  halt.  But  the  brilliant  charge  of  Sedgewick's  men  in  carrying  the 
Fredericksburg  Heights  was  in  vain,  for  through  several  blunders  in  other 
parts  of  the  field,  the  battle  had  been  already  lost.  But  this  brave  charge 
will  ever  "shine  out  as  the  one  relieving  brightness  amid  the  gloom  of  that 
hapless  battle." 

So  during  Tuesday  night,  amid  a  violent  rain  storm,  and  after  three  days 
of  figliting,  the  Army  of  the  Potomac  crossed  the  river  on  pontoon  bridges, 
and  the  great  battle  of  Chancellorsville  was  ended  ! 


CHAPTER     yill. 
AT     KEST     AT      LAST. 

;JflOLDIER,  rest  I  thy  warfare  o'er, 
Cr"    Dream  of  fighting  field  no  more; 
Sleep  the  sleep  that  knows  not  breaking. 
Morn  ol  toil  or  night  of  waking. 

—Scott. 


iFTEE  the  battle  of  Cliancellorsville,  the  Army  of  the  Potomac 
fell  back  to  its  old  camping  ground  at  Falmouth.  Here  the 
thousands  of  wounded,  who  had  fallen  in  the  battle,  had 
been  conveyed  across  the  river,  filling  the  numerous  hastily 
improvised  hospitals  to  their  utmost  capacity. 

Near  the  outskirts  of  the  town,  in  a  small  rose-wreathed 
cottage,  with  a  cool,  inviting  ivy-twined  porch,  facing  a  little  garden,  redo- 
lent with  blooming  flowers,  Marshall's  St.  Arlyle  friends  had  tenderly  carried 
the  wounded  soldier.  Though  his  wound  was  a  severe  and  painful  one,  it 
was  not  necessarily  fatal.  Almost  from  the  first,  all  that  medical  skill  could 
do  for  him  had  been  done,  for  Dr.  Granville  and  Charles  Laudon  had  been 
persistent  in  their  attention  to  him.  Bertha  had  also  hurried  to  his  side, 
and  all  that  lay  in  the  power  of  a  woman's  gentle  hand  to  perform  for  a 
wounded  soldier — and  that  is  more  than  words  can  tell — she  eagerly  did  for 
him.  For  she  felt  that  she  owed  him  an  inestimable  debt  of  gratitude  for 
his  noble  services  on  that  eventful  night  when  she  had  been  allured  to  the 
lonely  house  near  the  enemy's  lines.  And  Marshall's  conduct  afterward, 
when  arrested,  in  refusing  to  criminate  her,  though  thereby  he  could  have 
gained  a  most  important  witness  in  his  defense,  had  ennobled  him  in  her 
estimation,  with  martyr-like  qualities. 

On  the  fifth  day  after  receiving  his  wound  he  seemed  to  be  doing  well, 
when  suddenly  one  of  the  ligated  arteries  broke  and  bled  so  profusely  that 
it  required  the  combined  efforts  of  Dr.  Granville  and  Charlie  Landou  to  con- 
trol the  hemorrhage.  After  the  ruptured  arteiy  had  been  "taken  up"  he 
fell  into  a  gentle  sleep,  and  Bertha,  who  had  been  constantly  by  his  side, 
left  him  to  attend  to  others.  But  as  sooil  as  she  was  at  leisure  she  eagerly 
returned  to  him. 

He  had  just  awoke,  and  was  very  pale  and  weak.  After  she  had  given 
him  a  stimulant,  in  answer  to  her  question  of  how  he  felt,  he  leoked  up 
vaguely,  as  if  his  thoughts  were  wandering  far  away,  while  he  said  sadly, 
yet  still  with  a  shade  of  the  old  peculiar  humor  on  his  pale  face: 


S8  THROUGH    JFJR   TO  PEACE. 

"Sort  of  annihilated;  kind  of  Vandalized." 

Ill  spite  of  her  heavy  heart,  a  faint  smile  crossed  her  lips  at  this  charac- 
teristic reply. 

He  saw  it  and  his  pallid  face  brightened  with  something  of  the  old  humor 
as  he  said  : 

"  I've  used  those  words  so  long  and  often  that  they  have  almost  become 
a  part  of  my  nature.  But  I  have  no  doubt  they  are  not  far  from  the 
truth  now." 

"I  hope  not,"  she  said,  sincerely. 

"Yes,"  he  said,  calmly,  "I  have  a  presentiment  that  this  is  the  last  of 
earth  for  me;  that  my  bark  of  life  is  surely  and  rapidly  sailing  into  the  port 
of  eternity  I" 

"Cbeefr  up,"  she  replied,  "for  while  there's  life  there's  hope.  God  often 
gives  us  dark  hours,  so  that  we  may  fully  appreciate  the  bright  sunshine 
He  sends  at  last !" 

"  True,  but  I  think  my  sunshine  will  be  in  another  world  !" 

That  night  he  slept  well  and  awoke  refreshed.  And  his  friends  became 
much  encouraged,  thinking  he  was  on  the  way  to  recovery. 

From  the  day  he  had  rescued  Bertha  he  had  become  a  changed  man. 
Since  then  he  had  not  drunk  a  drop  of  liquor;  the  old  almlessness  fled,  and 
he  grew  more  thoughtful  and  eager  to  redeem  the  past.  He  was  not  less 
brave,  but  he  tried  to  be  nobler  and  better. 

For  several  days  he  seemed  to  grow  stronger,  but  one  morning  there  came 
suddenly  a  rapid  change  for  the  worse,  and  it  became  evident  that  his  end 
was  approaching.  One  afternoon  he  called  Dr.  Granville  to  his  side  and 
asked : 

"  Doctor,  it  is  all  over  with  me,  is  it  not?" 

Dr.  Granville  replied,  sadly,  "your  case  is  very  critical,  but  there  is  a 
feeble  chance  for  life." 

He  turned  inquiringly  to  Landon,  as  Charlie  replied: 

"Yes,  it  is  a  desperate  case.  But  you  are  in  God's  hands,  you  know. 
Let  us  hope  for  the  best." 

"  Thank  5'ou,  Doctor,  my  boy;  I  understand.  And  I  am  willing  to  go. 
For  I  think,*  now  at  last,  I'm  able  to  say,  what  I  ought  to  have  learned  to 
say  years  ago  :  what  is  God's  will  is  mine.  For  He  does  all  things  for  1  he 
best,  though  His  ways  may  not  always  be  plain  to  us.  But  the  good  Bock 
tells  us :  'It  is  the  glory  of  God  to  conceal  a  thing.'  And  it  is,  no  doubt, 
best  for  us  not  to  know  His  mysterious  ways  of  kindness."' 

"  I've  courted  death  before,"  he  continued,  "a  hundred  times  and  more, 
but  it  has  passed  me  by.  And  now,  when  I've  commenced  to  lead  a  bei  t  r 
life,  I'm  called  ^o  go.  But  perhaps  our  Heavenly  Father,  in  his  s\v<>('t 
mercy,  calls  us  when  we're  at  our  best.  In  my  poor  case,  infinitely  far 
from  what  I  ought  to  be.  But  in  the  future  I  had  hoped  to  retrieve  scinc- 
thing  of  my  wasted  life — at  least  do  better.  But  man  proposes,  and  Cod 
disposes.     And  I  can't  help  thinking,  always  for  the  best." 

Throughout  the  afternoon  and  evening  the  hemorrhage  continued,  and 
late  in  the  night,  as  he  grew  weaker  and  weaker,  his  mind  began  to  wander 
to  other  scenes,  to  other  days,  when  in  the  voyage  of  life  he  was  but  a  boy, 


THROUGH    WAR    TO  PEACE.  39 

and  when  hope  and  young  vigor  pictured  the  future  with  the  bright  sun- 
shine and  happiness  that  onlj^  youth  can  cherish  ! 

As  Charles  Landoi\  and  Frank  Meredith  watched  by  his  bedside  they  often 
caught  the  name  of  his  sister  trembling  upon  his  lips,  around  whose  memory 
such  a  wealth  of  his  love  was  clasped.  He  saw  her  again  in  her  girlhood, 
in  all  of  her  beauty,  sweetness  and  innocence ;  and  his  thoughts  of  her 
were  ever  thus,  to  the  last. 

Then  his  mind  wandered  to  the  after  days  of  his  erratic  career.  In  his 
thoughts  he  was  again  in  Tuikey,  mingling  amid  its  fields  of  blood  and 
death !  Once  more  the  scene  was  changed,  and  he  was  sharing  the  fate  of 
down-trodden  Greece.  Again  the  drama  of  his  life  was  varied,  and  he  was 
acting  over  his  checkered  course  in  Germany.  Another  turn  of  fortune's 
wheel,  and  he  was  amid  Mexico's  turbulent  strife  again.  But  wherever  his 
thoughts  wandered,  there  w^re  always  kind  words  and  wishes  for  many  a 
name,  of  those  whos€  friendship  he  still  remembered. 

Then,  as  his  mind  drifted  Into  later  years  and  the  actors  and  scenes  shifted 
again — in  his  fancy  he  was  living  over  his  life  in  St.  Arlyle.  And  by  his 
mutterings  they  learned  that  many  happy  memories  of  his  bygone  life  were 
linked  around  the  little  village  he  never  more  would  see.  And  as  he  named 
over  his  village  friends,  one  by  one,  for  not  a  name  was  omitted  or  for- 
gotten, the  remembrance  of  each  struck  a  tender  chord  in  his  heart. 

There  were  two  names  he  often  repeated  in  his  mind's  wanderings,  and 
always  with  the  strongest  solicitude  and  praise.  They  were  those  of  Bertha 
and  Charles.  Bertha  he  frequently  mentioned  as  the  little  curly-headed 
child  he  had  watched  grow  into  the  beautiful  girl. 

Of  Charlie  he  often  murmured  words  of  strong  admiration,  but  it  seemed 
to  pain  and  perplex  him  to  think  that  so  brave*  and  generous  a  fellow  could 
be  untrue  to  Bertha. 

And  now,  for  the  last  time,  his  thoughts  changed,  for  the  drama  of  his 
life  was  almost  ended — and  in  his  fancy  he  was  following  again  the  fortunes 
of  the  Army  of  the  Potomac;  fighting  over  the  bloody  battles  of  the  Penin- 
sular campaign ;  mingling  again  amkl  the  strife  of  Antietam ;  again  strug- 
gling through  the  carnage  of  Fredericksburg.  And  ere  the  curtain  of  his 
fancies  fell  he  lived  over  that  bloody  and  fatal  day  when  his  regiment 
charged  up  the  glacis,  under  the  fire  from  the  Fredericksburg  Heights,  on 
the  battle  field  of  Chancellor sville  ! 

His  mutterings  cea.sed,  and  for  some  time  he  lay  in  silence;  then  his  head 
moved  slightly  and  he  awoke  perfectly  rational.  Charles  arose  and  went  to 
his  bedside,  when  he  asked  for  a  drink  of  water.  After  drinking  it  he  turned 
his  eyes  toward  Meredith,  whose  head  was  bent  down  on  his  arms,  and 
asked,  in  a  whisper:  "Is  he  asleep?" 

"  Yes,"  replied  Land(jn. 

"  Bend  your  head  down,  my  boy  !"  said  he,  "  I  wish  to  say  a  few  words 
privately  to  you.  I  wish  you  to  promise  to  be  always  a  friend — a  true  friend, 
in  the  strongest,  purest  and  best  sense  of  the  word — to  Bertha.  For  she 
is  a  sweet,  generous  girl,  with  the  truest,  noblest  heart  that  ever  beat  in  a 
woman's  breast.  She  has  a  great,  heroic  soul,  as  far  above  envy  and  greed 
as  the  heavens  are  above  the  earth.       In  her  many  deeds  of  kindness  she 


JfO  THROUGH    WAR    TO   PEACE. 

i-ftalized  in  all  its  grandest  sweetness,  '  What  a  woman  true  may  be.'  " 

"  Your  request  is  an  easy  one  to  grant,"  replied  the  young  fellow,  as  a 
blush  mantled  his  cheek  and  a  tender  light  tilled  his  eyes,  "for  she  is  a  noble 
girl,  with  a  heart  as  sweet  and  pure  as  that  of  a  child.  And  often  when  I 
have  stood  amid  a  group  of  soldiers,  when  she  passed,  and  I  have  seen 
them  raise  their  caps  and  heard  them  speak  almost  reverentially  of  her 
many  deeds  of  kindness,  as  I  gazed  upon  her  spiritual  beauty.  I  could  almost 
see  a  seraphic  halo  around  her  beautiful  head.  And  often  in  my  dreams  I 
have  seen  her  as  an  angel,  floating  above  my  rude  bed,  on  many  a  tield  of 
■strife.  How  dearly  I  love  her  no  words  can  express.  And  I  can  only  say, 
may  heaven  deal  with  me,  as  I  deal  with  her!" 

"I  am  satisfied,"  said  Marshall.  "Good  night."  And  he  turned  his  head 
over  on  the  pillow  and  soon  fell  asleep. 

It  was  late  the  next  morning  when  Marshall  awoke.  Bertha  had  just 
entered  the  room,  and  as  she  gazed  down  at  him  she  noticed  how  pale  his 
face  had  grown,  and  how  weakly  he  breathed,  although  his  eyes  looked  un- 
usually dark  and  bright.  She  bent  over  him  and  asked  him  how  he  had  slept. 
At  the  sound  of  her  voice  he  turned  his  gaze  toward  her  in  silence,  while  a 
shadow  of  the  old  merry  smile  played  on  his  lips,  as  if  the  sight  of  her  ten- 
der and  beautiful  face  awoke  pleasant  memories.  He  remained  silent  for 
several  moments,  watching  her  face,  as  if  fascinated  by  its  tender  beauty, 
then  replied :  « 

"  Very  well,  indeed." 

"I'm  glad  you've  rested  well,"  she  said,  kindly. 

"Yes,"  he  replied,  "Heaven  is  always  good  to  us  in  the  end,  and  gives  us 
rest !  That  lesson  of  trust  and  peace  many  of  us  ought  to  have  learned 
before.  And  it  seems  strange  to  me  now  that  I  could  not  look  through  the 
mist  of  life's  troubles  and  ti'ials,  to  the  better  and  purer  home  of  tranquility  ; 
the  rest  God  has  so  freely  promised  to  all. 

"For  these  long  years  I've  led  a  reckless,  erring  lite.  But  I  think  and 
hope  that  it  was  more  through  thoughtlessness  than  intentional  wickedness. 
I  began  those  years  wrong,  with  not  enough  cf  faith  and  hope,  but  with  a 
burning  desire  for  revenge,  and  an  utter  lack  of  trust  in  man — and,  I'm 
afraid,  in  God  also — that  Anally  grew  into  recklessnrss! 

"But,"  he  added,  "there  were  days  in  those  wild  years  of  recklessness 
when  I  tried  to  throw  off  the  wild  life,  and  I  thought  I  had  succeeded,  when 
a  mere  incudent  would  bring  back  the  old  agonizing  sorrow  of  that  evening 
I  never  could  forget !  The  evening  when  we  learned  the  truth  of  my  sister's 
awful  death.  That  tragic  scene  can  never  be  effaced  from  my  memory.  I 
see  it  now,  as  I  have  seen  it  many  times  thtough  all  these  years  !  My  sister 
had  been  keeping  company  with  Shackle  for  some  time — he  was  a  handsome 
man  then,  though  when  you  knew  him  you  would  hardly  believe  it,  so 
greatly  was  he  changed — when  we  learned  he  was  already  married.  But, 
on  seeking  my  sister,  we  found  she  had  fled.  My  father  sent  messengers 
in  every  direction  to  seek  her.  Meanwhile  we  were  in  terrible  suspense. 
At  last  one  of  the  messengers  found  her,  and  brought  us  the  truth.  I  shall 
never  forget  the  scene  that  then  occurred.  It  was  evening,  and  my  mother, 
my  father  (who  was  just  recovering  from  a  severe  attack  of   pneumonia,) 


THROUGH    WAR   TO  PEACE.  4I 

and  I  were  standing  on  the  porch  when  the  messenger  came.  •  He  informed 
us  that  he  was  too  late  ;  and  thot  my  sister  had  committed  suicide  by  tailing 
poison.  Then  followed  an  awful  spectacle,  that  through  all  the  after  years 
has  never  grown  dim  !  My  mother,  with  a  terrible  scream,  fell  fainting  on 
the  door  step  ere  any  one  could  catch  her.  My  fatlier  turned  deadly  pale, 
while  he  pressed  one  hand  upon  his  breast,  as  if  to  control  his  agony.  Then 
I  saw  his  lips  were  red,  and  the  next  instant  the  hot  blood  spurted  over  his 
bosom.  But  ere  he  fell  we  caught  him  and  carried  him  into  the  house.  He 
lingered  on,  but  never  recovered  from  the  shock.  He  died  a  month  after — 
while  I  was  far  away  in  Turkey.  I  was  at  first  stunned  by  the  awful  news; 
my  heart  seemed  to  stop  beating,  and  I  staggered  like  a  drunken  man ;  then 
tears  came  to  my  relief.  Then  I  cursed  Shackle  with  the  bitterest  anathemas 
my  tongue  could  utter,  and  I  swore  vengeance  should  be  mine. 

"  I  went  to  his  house  and  mquired  for  him,  but  was  spurned  from  the 
door  Then,  there  in  the  street,  I  cursed  him  again  and  again,  with  all  the 
bitterness  of  my  soul.  I  went  home.  They  had  just  brought  my  sister's 
body  and  laid  it  upon  a  bed.  And  as  she  lay  there  in  death's  cold  embrace, 
in  all  her  wondrous  beauty,  her  image  has  ever  been  impressed  upon  my 
mind,  through  all  these  after  years.  She  had  on  the  same  white  dress  she 
had  worn  before  her  death  ;  not  even  the  white  rose  had  been  removed  from 
her  breast,  win  re  she  had  placed  it,  while  one  cold  little  hand  was  lying  be- 
side it,  as  if  she  had  but  just  ceased  toying  with  it.  Her  dark,  curly  hair 
clustered  around  her  pale  brow  and  hung  tar  down  over  her  shoulders;  the 
white  eyelids  were  closed,  hiding  forever  the  large,  lustrous  eyes,  and  her 
lips  were  gentlj-  parted,  as  if  in  sleep. 

"  I  was  wild  with  grief,  and  in  my  madness  I  challenged  Shackle  to  fight 
a  duel.  He  had  me  arrested,  but  my  friends  soon  procured  bail  for  me.  I 
was  never  prosecuted,  for  before  the  daj-  of  trial  came  Shackle  fled ! 

"  Two  days  after  my  sister's  death  she  was  buried.  I  stood  by  her  grave 
till  I  saw  the  last  shovelful  of  earth  thrown  in.  Then  I  realized  that  I  had 
lost  her  forever  !  The  idolized  sister,  to  whom  my  heart  had  been  so  closely 
bound.  From  that  moment  I  became  wild  and  reckless,  and  I  felt  I  should 
never  know  peace  aud  hope  again  !  I  only  thought  and  dreamed  of  ven- 
geance !  I  lost  faith  in  man,  and,  I'm  afraid,  in  God  too  !  My  heart  became 
steeled  to  danger.  I  feared  nothing — not  even  death.  I  went  to  Turkey, 
because  theie  was  war  there,  and  I  loved  turmoil  and  strife,  for  tiie  danger 
and  excitement  made  me  forget  my  grief.  I  was  the  leader  in  many  dan- 
gerous expeditions.  I  even  courted  death  over  and  over  again,  but  J  always 
escaped  unscathed.  My  reckless  daring  won  me  rapid  promotion,  but  ere 
long  my  ever  restlessness  urged  me  onward.  I  went  to  Greece,  but  my 
sorrow  went  with  me  and  would  not  let  me  rest.  Here,  amid  the  battle 
fields  of  Greece,  I  grew,  if  possible,  more  reckless  and  daring  than  ever.  I 
learned  to  love  danger  in  its  wildest  foiins.  Nothing  daunted  me,  and  the 
men  imder  my  command  thought  I  did  not  know  what  fear  was,  or  that  I 
was  mad.  Perhaps  I  was.  1  was  trying  to  drown  my  sorrow,  but  it  clung 
to  me  like  the  Old  Man  of  the  Sea  did  to  Sindbad  the  Sailor.  My  fearless- 
ness won  me  promotion.  I  was  on  the  road  to  fortune  But  it  was  the 
same  ending.      The  old  restlessness  came  back  with  treble  its  former  force, 


4^ 


THROUGH   WAR    TO    PEACE. 


and  I  flung  everything  aside  and  fled  to  Germany.  But,  as  ever,  my  grief 
went  with  me. 

"  I  had  been  in  Germany  several  months,  and  I  was  stopping  at  a  hotel  in 
Berlin,  when  one  warm  evening  as  I  was  walkingalong  the  hall  of  the  hotel, 
I  saw  a  bedroom  door  partly  open  and  I  casually  glanced  in.  There  was  a 
man  lying  on  the  bed,  and  I  knew  him  in  an  instant,  in  spite  of  his  changed 
appearance.     It  ivas  Shackle! 

"I  entered  the  room  and  stood  leaning  over  his  bed.  He  was  so  terribly 
changed  that  even  I  was  shocked  at  the  emaciated,  haggard,  and  wild,  haunted 
expression  of  his  countenance.  In  fact,  so  awfully  was  he  changed  that  I 
would  not  have  recognized  him  had  not  his  face  been  constantly  before  my 
mental  view.  If  his  face  was  any  criterion,  he  must  have  suffered  terribly. 
But  for  him  there  was  no  room  for  pitj'  in  my  heart.  I  recrossed  the  room, 
and,  lockmg  the  door,  returned  and  stood  leaning  over  him,  as  I  drew  a 
dagger  from  my  breast. 

"  'Vengeance  !  Vengeance  at  last  is  mine  !'  I  thought,  as  I  stood  gloating 
over  him.  '  You  shall  not  escape  now.  I  can  kill  you  with  as  litUe  feeling 
as  I  would  a  wild  beast !  I  have  hoped  and  longed  for  this !  And  at  last  it 
has  come  !  You  must  die  like  a  dog !'  I  raised  the  dagger  to  bury  it  in  his 
body.  It  was  already  descending  in  the  air,  when  I  suddenly  felt  a  hand 
grasp  my  arm  !  I  turned  my  head,  and  there  wasvvj  sister  standing  by  nnj 
side!  Exactly  as  1  had  last  seen  her,  on  the  day  of  her  death — in  a  white 
dress,  her  dark,  curly  hair  clinging  about  her  pale,  sweet  face,  and  hanging 
far  down  her  shoulders,  while  one  little  hand  was  grasping  the  white  rose 
on  her  breast.  I  was  struck  dumb  and  I  almost  fainted,  while  unconsciously 
and  seemingly  by  some  power  stronger  than  my  own,  I  replaced  the  dagger. 
As  I  did  so,  a  smile  of  approval  crossed  her  lips,  and  the  next  moment  she 
melted  into  air.  I  left  the  room,  and  fled  from  the  city — away  from  tempt- 
ation. 

"I'm  not  superstitious,  but  I  shall  always  think  I  saw  my  sister's  s|iirit 
standing  by  ray  side.  I  know  that  physicians  account  for  these  supernatural 
apparitions  by  telling  us :  That  in  such  cases  either  the  brain,  the  retina  or 
the  optic  nerve  being  unusually  excited,  are  thus  rendered  sensitive  to  an 
appearance  that  in  reality  does  not  exist.  For  there  is  such  a  close  union 
between  the  senses  and  the  mind,  that  we  continually  transfer  to  the  real 
world — without  being  aware  of  it — that  which  pertains  to  the  realm  of 
thought.  Thus,  they  say,  a  picture  that  has  made  a  deep  impression  upon 
us  at  one  time,  will  reappear  to  us  during  partial  sleep,  perfect  in  every  de- 
tail, or,  perhaps,  varied  by  the  capricious  wanderings  of  our  thoughts.  And 
that  passion  and  other  strong,  violent  mental  feelings  are  apt  to  evoke 
optical  delusions.  But,  nevertheless  I  shall  always  believe  I  saw  her  spirit, 
and  that  she  came  in  her  spirit  form  to  save  me  from  committing  murder! 

"From  the  day  I  saw  her  sweet  spiritual  face  there  came  a  change  for  the 
better — there  was  more  of  peace  m  my  heart.  Not  a  full  peace,  but  a  touch 
of  tranquility.  I  endeavored  to  throw  off  the  old  reckless  and  dissipated 
habits,  but  I  could  not  fully  succeed.  They  had  gained  too  strong  a  hold 
upon  me.  But  still  there  were  times  when  my  heart  was  nearer  peace  than 
it  had  known  for  many  years  before. 


THROUGH    WAR    TO   PEACE.  43 

"  When  I  left  Germany  I  went  to  Mexico.  Of  the  life  I  led  among  its  wild, 
revolutionary  scenes,  I  shall  not  dwell.  Then  I  went  to  St.  Arlyle.  Of  my 
life  there  you  are  fully  familiac.  At  last  the  Civil  "War  broke  out.  I  was  a 
soldier,  and  it  seemed  but  natural  that  1  should  enlist,  besides,  my  heart 
was  not  yet  tranquil  enough,  but  that  I  still  loved  strife  and  excitement, 
and  then,  I  had  truly  learned  to  love  the  Republic — the  grandest  example  of 
liberty  and  justice  the  world  ever  saw,  or,  perhaps,  ever  will. 

"The  night  Shackle  decoyed  you  into  his  power,"  he  continued,  "  I  went 
to  the  hospital  to  look  for  you.  There  I  was  given  the  letter  you  had  left 
for  me.  I  recognized  in  a  moment  that  it  was  Shackle's  handwriting,  and 
I  knew  that  he  was  again  at  his  old  villainy.  And  I  determined  to  save  you^ 
let  it  cost  what  it  would.  How  I  followed  jou,  how  I  fought  Shackle,  and 
how  I  was  afterward  arrested,  you  are  fuliy  acquainted. 

"  The  night  of  my  arrest,"  he  continued,  atter  gasping  for  breath,  "as  I 
lay  sleeping  in  the  guard  house,  I  suddenly  awoke,  and  tl^ere,  by  my  bed- 
side stood  my  sister's  spirit,  exactly  as  I  had  seen  her  once  before ;  her  dark 
hair  clustering  around  her  pretty  face  an.l  hanging  over  the  shoulders  of 
her  white  dress,  while  one  little  hand  was  gras;>iug  the  white  rose  on  her 
breast.  She  raised  her  hand  and  pointed  upward,  as  a  sweet  smile  crossed 
her  lips  ere  she  melted  away.  Then  I  knew  I  had  her  approval  in  foiling 
Shackle's  villainy.  From  that  moment  there  came  into  my  heart  a  feeling 
of  rest  and  peace,  that  I  had  yearned  for  through  many  a  weary  year.  And 
I  felt  that  the  old  restlessness  had  fled  and  in  its  stead  a  sweet  tranquility 
had  come  !  From  that  day  I  quit  drinking,  and  I  tried  to  lead  a  better  life. 
And  I  hope  I  have  not  wholly  failed." 

"  I'm  sure  you've  succeeded,"  said  Bertha,  warmly. 

The  dying  soldier  was  silent  for  some  time,  gasping  for  breath.  Then  he 
began  in  a  feeble  voice  : 

"  Last  night,  just  before  I  fell  asleep,  I  saw  my  sister's  spirit  standing  by 
my  bed.  She  appeared  exactly  as  she  had  done  twice  before — in  a  white 
robe,  her  dark  hair  hanging  about  her  face  and  neck,  while  one  small  hand 
was  clasping  the  white  rose  on  her  bieast.  But  there  was  a  light  on  her 
face  I  had  never  seen  before — a  heavenly  light,  that  shed  a  pure,  sweet  ra- 
diance into  my  soul.  She  raised  her  hand  and  pointed  upward,  as  she  had 
done  once  befoi-e.  But  instead  of  fading  away,  as  before,  she  floated  up- 
ward, far,  far  away  through  clouds  and  space,  till  I  saw  her  join  the  anj,'els 
on  the  heavenly  shore.  Then  I  knew  she  had  pointed  and  shown  me  the 
way.     And  then  my  heart,  at  last,  had  found  the  perfect  peace  and  love." 

He  was  rapidly  growing  weaker,  and  it  was  evident  that  in  a  few  minutes 
all  would  be  over,  as  he  said,  feebly  : 

"Miss  Bertha,  I  want  you  to  write  to  ray  mother,  and  tell  her  I  fell  in 
defense  of  the  flag  I  learned  to  love  best  of  all.  Tell  her  that  I  died  at  peace 
with  my  God  and  man.  Tell  her  that  ere  my  life  or  hers  wtis  done,  1  had 
hoped  to  meet  her  once  again  in  the  old  home  across  the  water,  in  Erin's 
isle.  But  it  has  been  willed  otherwise,  and  I  submit!  Tell  her  I  at  last 
found  the  faith  she  taught  me  at  her  knee.  The  grand,  glorious  faith  God 
lias  given  to  us  all.  And  tell  her  that  through  it  I  hope  to  meet  her  on  the 
shining  shore  of  peace  !" 


u 


THROUGH   WAR   TO  PEACE. 


When  he  ceased  speaking  he  lay  motionless,  his  eyes  closed,  and  he 
breathed  imperceptibly,  while  a  deathly  pallor  covered  his  face.  But  after 
several  moments  he  slightly  rallied,  as  she  bent  her  ear  do^n  to  catch  his 
dj'lng  words,  he  said  : 

"  I  had  hoped,  in  future  years,  to  lead  a  better  life.  The  past  one  was 
full  of  care  and  unrest.  But  it  was  my  own  fault  that  I  found  the  thorns 
and  missed  the  roses.  But  then  I'll  not  complain.  The  greatest  crown 
of  all  has  been  a  diadem  of  thorns!  And  through  it,  I  hope,  I've  found  the 
right  path  up  to  God ;  the  right  way  home  to  peace  !" 

Then  over  his  face  came  a  sweet  expression  of  tranquility ;  the  rest  he 
had  longed  for  through  many  a  weary  year;  and  the  soldier  of  fortune  had 
crossed  the  dark  ocean  into  the  haven  of  Eternal  Rest ! 

*  *  *  *  * 

Of  the  ill-starred  life  Marshall  led,  how  shall  we  judge!  We,  who  know 
so  little  of  the  emotions  and  struggles  of  the  human  heart.  For  often  be- 
neath a  calm  face  is  hidden  the  terrible  agony  of  a  bitter  sorrow  for  loved 
ones,  over  whom  the  grass  has  grown  green ;  yet  around  whose  memories 
grim  spectres  of  the  past  will  rise  to  haunt  even  their  brightest  moments. 

Thus  in  the  breasts  of  all  of  us,  at  times,  will  come  welling  up  memories 
haunted  by  spectres  of  many  shattered  hopes,  many  sorrows,  many  errors 
and  vain  regrets,  that  will  often  make  us  waver  or  stray  from  the  beaten 
path. 

So,  only  God  can  fathom  the  motives  that  prompt  and  direct  the  actions 
in  each  human  heart;  and,  therefore.  He  alone  can  estimate  the  guilt  and 
the  sin.  • 


CHAPTEK  IX. 

THE  BATTLE   OF   GETTYSBURG. 


31' 


ND  backward  now  and  forward 
Wavers  the  deep  array; 
And  on  the  tossing  sea  of  steel 
To  and  fro  the  standards  reel, 
.4nd  the  victorious  trumpet  peal 
Dies  fitfully  away. 

—  Macauley. 


i^^ 


EAUTIFULLY  the  mol■lllll^'  of  the  first  of  July,  1863,  broke 
over  Gettysburg;  not  a  cloud  obscured  the  clear  blue  sky, 
while  the  warm  air  and  streaming  sunshine  bathed  in  all  its 
summer  splendor  the  little  town  soon  to  be  rendered  immortal, 
as  the  field  not  only  of  the  most  decisive  and  bloody  battle  of 
the  Civil  War,  but  as  the  theatre  of  one  of  the  greatest  con- 
flicts of  modern  times.  From  early  dawn  the  scene  in  the  little  town  had 
been  one  of  mighty  martial  splendor  and  beauty,  yet  inspiring  terror,  as 
the  Army  of  the  Potomac  passed  through  it  toward  the  west,  with  its  long 
blue  columns  of  infantry,  their  bands  playing  lively  strains  and  their  gay 
banners  floating  out  on  the  morning  air,  while  their  bright  arms  flashed  and 
danced  in  the  sunlight  with  a  dazzling  splendor ;  its  platoons  of  cavalry, 
with,  gleaming  sabres,  followed  by  its  batteries  of  artillery,  their  huge  guns 
darting  back  the  sun-rays,  as  if  bidding  defiance  to  every  foe,  while  amid 
its  legions  rode  the  crimson-sashed  officers,  the  gold  and  silver  insignia  of 
rank  glittering  on  their  shoulders. 

As  the  morning  wore  away,  with  a  steady  tread  the  serried  ranks  of  the 
Army  of  the  Potomac  moved  through  the  town.  It  was  a  few  minutes  past 
nine  o'clock,  when,  in  the  distance,  toward  the  west  of  the  town,  a  puff  of 


46  THROUGH    M'JB   TO  PEACE. 

white  smoke  ascended  into  the  clear,  blue  sky,  and  the  next  instant  the 
crash  of  musketry  rolled  into  t'.ie  streets,  followed  by  the  heavy  report  of  a 
cannon.  "Crash  !  crash  !  boom  !  boom  !  "  knd  in  a  few  minutes  the  crash  has 
grown  into  a  continuous  crash,  and  the  boom  into  a  mighty  roar. 

There  had  been  a  sudden  collision  between  the  Federal  General  Buford's 
re.uiments,  drawn  up  in  lineacross  the  Chambersburg road,  and  an  advancing 
division  under  General  Harry  Heath,  of  Lee's  army,  and  the  Battle  of 
Gettysburg  had  begun. 

In  a  few  moments  the  scene  in  the  town  was  changed  ;  the  terrible  roar  of 
the  heavy  guns  had  broken  the  spell.  The  idlers  in  the  streets  who  were 
watching  the  passing  troops  turned  at  the  first  sound  of  the  guns,  and  gazed 
with  excited  and  frightened  faces  toward  the  direction  of  the  rapidly  m- 
creasing  roar,  and  where  the  puffs  of  white  smoke  above  the  trees  told  that 
the  battle  was  raging.  Through  the  serried  ranks  of  the  moving  army  there 
rolled  a  gentle  ripple  of  excitement,  but  it  soon  increased  until  it  resembled 
great  waves  on  some  ocean's  breast.  Then  followed  a  grand,  exciting 
scene,  as  the  infantry,  with  flashing  arms  and  streaming  standards,  pressed 
forward  at  the  double-quick,  and  the  cavalry,  with  clashing  and  gleaming 
sabres,  galloped  rapidly  by,  while  the  artillery  horse  broke  into  a  rapid  trot, 
as  the  heavy  guns  thundered  along,  and  even  the  bands  struck  up  wilder 
strains,  while  the  drummers  loudly  rattled  their  drums,  as  the  trumpeters 
sent  forth  their  shrill,  piercing  notes,  while,  above  the  din,  the  officers 
yelled  their  orders  at  the  top  of  their  voices,  and  every  order  was  :  "  For- 
ward !     Forward  to  the  front !  " 

As  the  troops  rushed  forward  to  the  vortex  of  death,  there  were  no  cheers, 
no  bravado,  only  the  fixed  lips  and  determined  faces  of  the  men  showed 
the  gazers,  as  they  passed,  that  they  knew  the  bloody  work  they  had  to  do, 
and  that  they  intended  to  do  it.  .  And  through  the  beholder  there  ran  an 
awful  shudder,  as  he  thought  many  of  them  must  meet  a  terrible  death,  • 
mangled  by  shot  and  shell. 

It  was  the  intention  neither  of  General  Mead,  nor  Lee,  to  fight  the  battle 
at  Gettysburg,  but  so  rapid  had  been  the  movements  of  both  armies  that 
each  commander  was  in  ignorance  of  the  whereabouts  of  the  other's  troops, 
until  the  morning  of  the  battle.  General  Lee  had  intended  reaching  Cham- 
bersburg  before  giving  battle,  and  Mead  advanced  his  left  wing  under  Gen- 
eral Reynolds,  in  front  of  Gettysburg,  as  a  feint  to  divert  the  enemy's 
attention,  while  he  formed  a  strong  line  with  his  main  body  behind  Pipe 
Creek,  twenty  miles  distant.  Buford,  when  he  found  his  men  in  collision 
with  the  Confederates,  resolved  to  hold  the  enemy  in  check  until  the  arrival 
of  his  chief.  General  Reynolds,  who,  with  his  command,  was  two  miles 
distant. 

Reynolds,  on  his  arrival,  had  no  orders  from  General  Mead  to  commence 
the  battle,  but  the  exigencies  of  the  situation  supplied  the  place  of  com- 
mands. He  also  saw  the  necessity  of  rapid  action,  as  Buford's  men  were 
sorely  pressed,  and  on  the  point  of  breaking ;  so,  forming  his  entire  com- 
mand at  the  edge  of  the  woods,  he  suddenly  charged  to  Buford's  aid.  He 
and  his  men  were  met  with  a  perfect  storm  of  bullets,  and  while  gallantly 
leading  forward.  General  Reynolds  fell  mortally  wounded  from  bis  horse, 


THROUGH    M\dB,     TO    PEACE.  47 

djiug  where  he  fell.  Notwithstaudlng  the  fall  of  their  commander,  the 
men  pressed  bravely  onward  with  sueh  impetiiositj'  that  they  drove  two 
Confederate  regiments  into  a  railroad  excavation,  and  captured  them,  with 
their  battle  flags. 

Reinforcements  rapidly  joined  both  combatants,  and  the  battle  raged  with 
terrible  fierceness,  the  roar  of  the  artillery  was  terrific,  the  wild  flashes  of 
flame  leaped  everywhere  amid  the  suFphurous  smoke,  like  forked  lightning, 
and  solid  shot  and  bursting  shells  were  falling  in  every  direction,  while  the 
air  was  filled  with  bullets. 

It  was  new  three  o'clock,  the  heat  was  intense,  and  the  contest  was  raging 
fierce  and  wild,  when,  toward  the  north-east,  a  long,  waving  line  of  gray 
appeared  in  view.  The  new  troops  were  Stonewall  Jackson's  old  legions, 
hurrying  to  the  field,  to  decide  the  fate  of  the  day.  Reaching  the  York 
road,  they  debouched  into  the  woods,  and  with  their  old,  wild  battle  cry, 
fell  \\\t\\  crushing  force  upon  the  Federal  right.  The  National  soldiers, 
though  outflanked  and  taken  in  the  rear,  changed  front  and  fought  with  the 
utmost  bravery,  but  the  fire  poured  upon  them  was  terrific — for  men  who 
had  fought  in  all  the  former  great  battles  of  the  war  said  they  never  were 
under  a  hotter  fire.  At  last  the  Federals  began  to  fall  back,  slowly  at  first, 
then  more  rapidly,  till  finally  their  ranks  were  broken  and  the  retreat  became 
a  rout,  and  they  were  driven  through  the  streets  of  Gettysburg  in  wild  con- 
fusion, with  the  loss  of  five  thousand  prisoners.  The  Confederates  took 
possession  of  the  town,  and  the  Federals  fell  back  on  their  reserve  body, 
which  had  been  posted  on  Cemetery  Hill,  behind  Gettysburg.  It  was  at 
this  time — as  the  retreating  men  were  pouring  through  Gettysburg  toward 
the  Hill — that  General  Hancock  arrived  on  the  field.  He  had  been  sent  by 
General  Mead — who  was  still  at  Taneytown,  13  miles  distant — to  take  com- 
mand, as  soon  as  Mead  learned  of  the  battle  and  the  death  of  Reynolds. 

Hancock  was  very  popular  with  the  rank  and  file  of  the  Armj'  of  the 
Potomac,  and  his  commanding  appearance,  with  his  winning,  magnetic 
manner,  added  to  his  dashing  gallantrj',  did  much  toward  rallying  end  form- 
ing them  into  a  new  line.  And  it  was  not  long  before  he  had  the  remnant 
of  the  army  re-formed  on  Cemetery  Heights,  behind  ledges,  stone  walls  and 
bowlders,  presenting  an  abatis  of  bristling  bayonets.  Though  order  had 
been  restored,  and  a  strong  fiont  presented  toward  the  enemy,  the  Federal 
forces  were  yet  in  imminent  danger,  for  it  was  evident  they  could  not  resist 
successfully  a  combined  attack  of  the  enemy — and  defeat  meant  rum! 

It  was  yet  several  hours  before  sunset,  and  a  cloud  of  Confederate  skir- 
mishers were  already  breasting  the  hill,  when  to  the  astonishment  and 
heart-felt  Joy  of  the  Federals,  they  were  suddenly  i-ecalled,  and  thus  ended 
the  first  day  of  the  Battle  of  Gettysburg.  Though  it  had  been  a  day  of 
teiTible  carnage,  yet  bloodier  days  were  to  follow.  And  that  night  General 
Lee  made  a  fatal  mistake  when  he  did  not  complete  his  victory  and  drive 
the  Federals  from  their  stronghold,  for  by  sunrise  the  next  morning,  most 
of  Mead's  men  had  arrived,  and  the  Heights  of  Gettysburg  were  covered 
with  the  infantry  and  artillery  of  the  great  Army  of  the  Potomac. 
***** 

The  morning  of  the  second  of  July,  1863,  broke  over  Gettysburg,  calm 


48  THROUGH   WAR   TO    PEACE. 

and  still ;  the  sun  in  all  its  brightness  shone  through  a  clear,  azure  sky, 
except  for  an  occasional  white  cloud  that  floated  ominously  above,  as  if  pre- 
dicting the  terrible  storm  of  human  wrath  that  would  sweep  over  plain  and 
hill  ere  the  sunset  Hushed  the  west.  All  night  long,  on  the  heights  above 
the  town,  had  been  arriving  the  reinforcements  of  the  Federal  army,  and  as 
the  first  beams  of  day  gilded  vyith  roseate  hues  the  Heights,  they  fell  upon 
the  lines  of  polished  steel — consisting  of  nearly  a  hundred  thousand  men. 

In  front  of  the  National  army,  and  across  a  small  valley — not  more  than 
a  mile  and  a  half  distant  —was  formed  the  Confederate  forces,  in  the  shape 
of  an  immense  crescent,  nearly  five  miles  in  length,  and  numbering  over 
ninety  thousand  men.  Viewed  by  the  Federal  soldiers  on  the  Heights,  they 
formed  a  magnificent  spectacle,  as  their  long,  gray  lines  stood  there  in  grim 
battle-array,  with  their  bright  arms  flashing  in  the  July  sunlight,  almost  as 
fai  as  the  eye  could  see,  while  the  black  mouths  of  their  cannon*,  that  thickly 
dotted  the  eastern  slope  of  the  hill,  frowned  ominously  up  across  the  vale. 

ThuH  the  two  armies  met,  on  the  2d  of  July,  in  this  viagnificent  aniphi- 
theatre  at  Gettysburg,  to  deckle  the  fate  of  the  Southern  Confederacy. 

During  the  morning  there  had  been  some  skirmishing,  but  as  the  day  wore 
away  all  became  calm.  There  was  a  balmy  sweetness  in  the  summer  air, 
enhanced  by  nature's  sweet  repose.  And  as  the  glances  of  those  on  the 
Heigiits  fell  beneath,  they  were  entranced  by  the  green-leafed  woods,  the 
flourishing  orchards,  the  yellow  ripening  grain  and  the  verdant  meadows,  on 
whose  breasts  the  cattle  were  feeding,  or  lying  in  the  shade  of  the  trees,  or 
drinking  from  the  silver-hued  streams  that  rip'pled  along.  It  was  a  scene 
of  Nature's  sweet  repose,  but  soon  to  be  changed  by  the  wrath  of  man  into 
scenes  of  wild  turbulence  and  horror,  to  fill  the  air  with  shrieks  of  agony, 
and  with  the  mighty  roar  of  destruction ;  to  cover  vale  and  hillside  with  the 
mangled  bodies  of  the  siain,  and  to  crimson  those  silver-hued  streams  with 
human  blood.  For  the  soldiers  soon  to  be  actors  in  this  terrible  drama  of 
death  were  no  longer  the  raw  recruits  who  began  the  war,  but  men  whom 
three  years  of  experience  with  danger,  blood  and  death  had  taught  the  awful 
duties  of  soldiers,  and  they  had  learned  those  lessons  well  ere  this,  on  many 
a  blood-stained  field ! 

Shortly  after  three  o'clock  there  fell  over  the  field  an  awful  calm,  sublime 
in  its  very  oppressiveness,  as,  with  bated  breaths  and  fluttering  hearts,  the 
men  of  these  two  great  armies — in  mighty,  grand  battle-array — awaited  the 
conflict ! 

It  was  few  minutes  of  four  o'clock,  when  a  Confederate  artillery  officer 
waved  his  sword  in  the  air,  and  as  the  blade  flashed  in  the  afternoon's  waning 
sunlight,  there  came  a  mighty  roar  from  over  a  hundred  guns,  massed  on 
the  en  stern  slope  of  the  hill.  The  cannon  balls  arched  over  the  little  valley 
and  fell  with  a  crash  on  the  sides  and  summit  of  the  Heights,  as  they  bounded 
from  bowlder  to  bowlder.  The  next  moment  the  Federal  lines  above  were 
swept  by  a  billow  of  flame,  and  a  hundred  and  fifty  guns  hurled  back  defiance. 

The  roar  of  the  artillery  was  terrific,  the  air  was  filled  with  solid  shot 
and  bursting  shells,  and  the  sulphurous  smoke  rolled  in  huge  volumes  over 
the  fleld,  while  amid  it  darted  the  red  flames  from  the  cannons'  mouths. 

But  all  this  was  but  the  prelude  for  more  desperate  and  deadly  work. 


THROUGH    WAR    TO   PEACE.  49 

Partly  under  cover  of  the  smoke  of  their  guns,  the  Confederates  were  seen 
rapidJy  forming  in  line,  and  in  a  few  minutes  more  Longstreet's  entire  corps, 
nearly  one  third  of  the  army,  was  pressing  forward  at  the  double-quieli  to 
storm  the  Federal  position,  while  the  Confederate  artillery,  with  renewed 
thunder,  poured  volley  after  volley  over  the  advancing  men's  heads.  Down 
the  slope,  three  lines  deep,  the  men  in  gray  press,  then  up  the  glacis  toward 
the  Federals  they  rush,  as  their  lines  flash  with  the  fire  of  their  rifles,  and 
in  a  few  minutes  more,  with  wild  yells  and  cheers,  they  fall  with  tremendous 
and  savage  fury  on  the  Federals. 

The  battle  now  raged  furiously,  and  every  minute  grew  wilder  and 
bloodier,  till  at  last  it  resembled  a  tempest-tossed  sea  of  destruction.  The 
Confederates  poured  a  close,  heavy  fire,  the  stone  walls  and  ledges  literally 
blazed  with  musketry,  and  the  bullets  fell  like  showers  of  rain,  while  over 
two  hundred  cannons  dealt  forth  death  and  destruction  on  every  side  !  Thus 
the  battle  raged  all  along  the  line.  Cemetery  Kidge  was  a  sheet  of  fire ;  on 
Gulps  Hill  both  sides  charged  and  counter-charged  with  demon-like  fury ; 
but  on  the  semi-circle  about  Little  Round  Top  the  scene  of  blood  and  de- 
struction was  grand,  terrific  and  awful !  Every  inch  of  air  seemed  to  be 
alive  with  bullets,  balls  and  bursting  shells;  the  hillsides  were  piled  with 
dead  and  wounded,  yet  the  desperate  men  charged  and  re-charged  across 
the  blood-stained  ground  and  vale  of  death  ! 

Thus  for  more  than  two  hours  the  earth  shook  and  trembled  as  if  an 
eaithquake  had  rumbled  through  its  depths,  the  thunder  of  the  artillery,  the 
crash  of  the  musketry  was  deafening,  and  the  sulphurous  smoke  swept  in 
heavy  volumes  over  the  field,  and,  ascending  toward  the  sky,  formed  a  thick 
canopy  above,  as  if  endeavoring  to  hide  from  Heaven  the  scenes  of  infernal 
horror  beneath,  and  in  the  dense  smoke  the  men  fought  as  if  in  a  fog,  while 
the  red  flames  from  the  cannons  darted  about  amid  it,  like  wild  tongues  of 
fire  from  some  demoniacal  abyss  ! 

Thus  the  tempest  of  c'.eatli  and  destruction  raged,  till  the  last  beams  ol 
day  faded,  and  darkness  shrouded  the  field.  Even  then,  though  the  main 
body  of  the  Confederate  Army  had  fallen  back,  yet  still  between  their  ad- 
vanced skirmishers  and  the  Federals,  who  were  resting  on  their  arms,  the 
fire  was  almost  continuous  throughout  the  night. 


CHAPTER  X. 

THE  CLOSE  OF  THE  BATTLE  OF  GETTYSBURG. 


((^^'WICE  Hath  the  sun  on  their  conflict  set, 


"HL 


And  risen  again,  and  found  them  grappling  yet.' 


VEN  as  early  as  four  o'clock  in  the  mcrning  the  desultory  fire 
of  the  night  increased  almost  at  once  into  sheets  of  flame, 
and  immediately  a  terrible  struggle  followed.  Ere  long  the 
contestants  became  so  intermingled  that  it  became  almost 
impossible  to  use  the  artillery,  for  fear  of  killing  friend  as 
well  as  foe.  As  the  battle  progressed  the  air  became  filled 
with  dust  and  smoke,  and  as  the  sun  mounted  higher  and  higher  the  heat 
became  intense.  The  Confederates  charged  again  and  again  with  the  utmost 
bravery,  but  with  little  effect,  for  they  were  pitted  against  men  as  courage- 
ous and  determined  as  themselves. 

Through  those  long,  early  hours  of  morning  the  fighting  was  desperate 
and  severe,  and  the  carnage  was  fearful.  That  part  of  the  field  after  the 
battle  was  literally  bathed  with  blood,  and  thickly  covered  with  the  bodies 
of  the  slain — the  blue  and  gray  uniforms  mingled  in  one  heap — showing  the 
terrible  nature  of  the  determined  struggle. 

Late  in  the  morning  there  was  a  short  calm  in  the  storm  of  battle.  Then 
suddenly  there  was  a  mighty  kurst  of  cheers  and  yells  from  thousands  of 
Confederates,  and  Ewell's  fresh  men  rushed  up  the  hill  and  fell  with  tre- 
mendous fury  on  the  National  lines.  They  met  with  a  desperate  and  stub- 
born resistance  from  the  Federals,  and  a  hand  to  hand  struggle  followed. 
But  at  last  the  Federals  were  forced  from  their  works,  and  on  rushed  the 
victorious  Confederates.  But  as  they  approached  a  stone  wall,  the  men  in 
blue  of  an  entire  division  arose  before  them  like  an  apparition,  and  poured 
upon  them  a  close,  heavy  volley.  They  were  mowed  down  like  grain  before 
the  sickle,  and  even  these  brave  warriors  could  do  no  more  than  retreat. 


THROUGH    ]VAR    TO   PEACE.  51 

***** 

It  was  noon,  and  the  last  sounds  of  the  conflict  had  several'  hours  before 
died  away.  The  morning  sliy,  which  had  been  partly  hidden  by  clouds,  had 
now  cleared,  and  the  hot  July  sun-rays  poured  down  with  a  scorching  inten- 
sity. There  was  a  deep,  unbroken  silence  brooding  over  the  entire  battle 
field,  like  that  awful  calm  of  death  that  rests  on  an  ice-bound  sea,  and  to  a 
casual  observer  it  seemed  as  if  the  battle  were  over.  But  it  was  evident  to 
tiie  Federals  on  the  heights— as  they  waited  under  the  hot  raid-day's  sun- 
rays,  with  throbbing  hearts  and  with  preoccupied  thoughts  too  deep  for 
words — that  the  Confederates  were  making  gigantic  preparations  for  a  last 
desperate  and,  it  possible,  crowning  effort  for  victory.  The  Confederates 
had  massed  their  artillery  on  Seminary  Hili,  and  a  few  minutes  before  one 
o'clock  the  death-like  silence  was  broken  bj'  the  sharp,  ringing  report  of  a 
Whitworth  gun.  It  was  the  signal  for  the  battle.  Instantly  a  huge  sheet 
of  flame  leaped  above  Seminary  Hill,  and  the  thundering  roar  af  a  hundred 
and  fortj'-flve  cannons  filled  the  air,  while  their  mouths  poured  death  and 
destruction  into  the  Federal  lines.  The  National  commanders  ordered  their 
men  to  lie  down  on  the  ground,  and  to  seek  every  protection  possible  behind 
walls,  ledges  and  bowlders.  But  in  spite  of  every  precaution  the  destruc- 
tion of  life  was  fearful.  Solid  shot,  shell,  canister  and  grape  fell  thick 
amid  the  Federals  with  deadly  effect.  Men  and  horses  were  cut  to  pieces, 
gun-carriages  smashed,  caissons  with  their  ammunition  exploded,  and  rocks 
and  trees  shattered  to  fragments.  For  a  quarter  of  an  hour  their  cannons 
hurled  destruction  into  the  Federal  lines,  without  a  reply.  Then  came  the 
National  answer,  all  along  the  battle  line,  from  the  tiery  mouths  of  three 
hundred  guns,  and  from  Cemetery  Hill  to  Round  Top  rolled  billows  of  flame, 
like  a  sea  of  fire.  The  roar  of  the  artillery  and  the  flash  of  fire  was  terrific, 
rivaling  in  its  grandeur  the  wildest  thunder  storms  of  nature.  The  air  was 
filled  with  every  form  of  deadly  missile,  the  very  earth  shook  under  the 
combatants'  feet,  and  the  rocks  and  trees  waved  and  moved  as  if  endowed 
with  life,  while  the  men  staggered  about  amid  the  concussed  air,  on  the 
trembling  earth,  as  if  intoxicated.  Thus  for  two  hours  thundered  this 
gigantic  artillery  battle — of  over  four  hundred  guns — the  greatest  the  Amer- 
ican continent  had  ever  known,  and  one  of  the  greatest  artillery  contests  of 
the  world ;  realizing,  in  its  fierce,  wild  grandeur,  one  of  the  most  magnifi- 
cent, soul-stirring  and  terror-inspiring  scenes  of  earth  ! 

*  :f:  -  :f:  *  :,; 

At  the  end  of  two  hours  there  came  a  lull  from  both  sides  in  the  terrific 
cannonade,  and  immediately  the  Confederates  began  forming  in  line  for  a 
final  and  desperate  charge  for  victory,  the  most  bloody  and  determined  of 
cdl  those  four  years  of  war!  As  they  emerged  from  the  trees  that  covered 
the  summit  of  Seminary  Hill,  and  moved  steadily  and  firmly  down  its  slope, 
with  their  lines  dressed  as  well  as  men  on  parade,  it  was  a  magnificent  sight, 
and  won  even  a  thrill  of  admiration  from  the  breasts  of  those  above.  They 
were  about  a  mile  distant  from  the  Federal  works,  and  to  reach  them  they 
had  to  descend  a  hill,  cross  a  small  valley,  and  then  climb  a  hill.  They 
numbered  about  18,000  men,  and  were  formed  in  double  line  of  battle,  with 
Pickett's  Veteran  Virginians  leading.      As  the  attacking  men  moved  down 


52  THROUGH    WAR   TO  FEACE. 

the  slope,  the  National  troops  on  the  Heights  poured  a  heavy  artillery  fire 
upon  them ;  but  forward  they  pressed,  with  a  steady  tread  and  without  a 
waver,  though  the  solid  shot  and  shell  were  crashing  through  their  raiilisat 
every  step.  They  had  advanced  about  half  way  when  suddenly  their  can- 
nons, which  had  been  firing  over  their  heads,  became  silent.  "  What  is  the 
reason?"  exclaimed  the  men,  rushing  into  the  vortex  of  death.  "Why?" 
asked  the  Confederates  gazing  on.  "  Why?''  wondered  the  Federals  on  the 
Heights.  None  knew — not  even  General  Lee — till  afterward.  The  gunners 
had  exhausted  their  ammunition!  And  there,  unaided,  for  half  a  mile 
they  must  breast  alone  the  storm  of  shot  and  shell.  But  on  they  pressed, 
with  a  firm  front  and  steady  step,  seemingly  heedless  of  every  fire  and  fear- 
less of  every  foe.  The  Federals  now  opened  a  murderous  fire;  the  bullets 
fell  on  the  advancing  troops  like  hail  on  a  winter's  day,  and  the  cannon 
balls,  shells  and  canister,  ploughed  through  their  ranks,  tearing  wide  gaps 
in  tlieir  front;  but  on  they  pressed,  up  the  death-swept  slope  of  Cemetery 
Hill,  fearless  of  the  deadly  missiles,  and  heedless  of  their  comrades  wlio 
were  being  torn  to  pieces  by  their  sides.  As  they  advance,  it  becomes  one 
incessant  storm  of  death-dealing  volleys.  Along  every  inch  of  their  front 
reared  the  red  crest  of  Destruction  !  I  ut  those  true  heroes,  splashing  blood 
at  every  step,  seemed  more  eager  to  court  death  than  to  escape  danger.  As 
they  approached  the  National  line,  the  ledges  and  walls  literally  blazed  with 
a  withering  fire,  until  the  air  along  their  front  grew  black  with  the  wings  of 
death.  But  forward  press  the  Confederates.  "Will  no  fire,  no  loss,  drive 
them  back?"  exclaim  the  Federals. 

Before  this  terrific  artillery  and  musketry  fire  all  the  Confederates  except 
Pickett's  brave  Virginians  have  melted  away — wounded,  dead,  or  driven 
from  the  field. 

The  Federal  gunners  had  now  fired  away  their  last  round  of  canister,  and, 
withdrawing  their  guns,  awaited  the  great  struggle  between  the  opposing 
infantry.  The  Virginians  were  now  about  two  hundred  yards  distant,  and 
for  the  first  time  since  they  had  begun  to  face  this  terrific  storm  of 
death  they  poured  forth  well  directed  volley  after  volley.  The  National 
troops  reserved  their  fire  till  the  enemy  was  within  about  eighty  yards, 
then  they  poured  upon  them  a  perfect  storm  of  bullets.  So  incessant  and 
continuous  was  the  rain  of  bullets,  that  it  is  said  that  the  advancing  men 
turned  their  heads  to  one  side,  like  men  facing  a  driving  hail  storm.  But, 
with  a  desperate  determination,  onward  rush  the  brave  Virginians.  As  they 
near  the  stone  wall  they  are  met  by  a  new  danger.  The  National  artillery- 
men farther  up  the  hill  lower  the  muzzles  of  their  guns,  and  pour  rapid  vol- 
leys of  canister  and  grape  through  their  i-anks ;  but,  heedless  of  this,  they 
rush  rapidly  forward,  and,  vaulting  over  the  breastworks,  plant  their 
battle  flags  on  the  walls.  But  they  were  now  confronted  by  a  foe  of  equal 
determination  and  bravery.  A  veteran  division,  that  had  passed  through 
all  the  bloody  battles  of  the  Peninsular  campaign ;  men  who  had  been 
schooled  on  the  field  of  death,  and  who  met  them  with  a  firm  resolu- 
tion to  win  or  fall.  On  neither  side  was  there  any  shrinking,  but,  on  the 
contrary,  both  combatants  were  eager  to  meet  in  the  desperate  struggle ! 

It  was  a  face-to-face  and  hand-to-hand  contest,  fought  with  a  desperation 


THROUGH    WAR     TO    PEACE.  53 

akin  to  death.  So  close  were  the  men  together,  that  their  clothes  were 
burnt  bj'  the  exploding  cartridges.  The  Federals,  in  their  eagerness  to  fall 
upon  the  enenij',  had  lost  their  regimental  organization,  but  each  man  was 
resolute  and  firm.  The  struggle  now  raged  fierce  and  wild.  But  the  end 
was  near.  The  Virginians  pressed  on  every  side,  and  the  Federals  in  their 
front,  falling  upon  them  with  tremendous  fury,  they  were  forced  back.  In 
an  instant  the  waiting  gunners  above  sprang  to  their  guns,  and  poured  vol- 
ley after  volley  through  their  ranks.  At  the  same  time  the  cannons  on 
their  flanks  and  in  their  rear  opened  upon  them  with  terrific  effect.  The 
Virginians  staggered,  reeled,  and  fell  in  heaps  on  the  blood-stained  field  as 
their  ranks  were  cut  to  pieces  in  every  direction.  They  have  fought  nobly, 
like  true  heroes,  but  they  could  do  no  more,  and  there  remained  but  one 
course  for  the  few  who  were  left — to  retrace  their  steps  across  the  valley  of 
death  !  And  thus  the  curtain  fell  on  the  disaster  of  the  master-act  of  the 
great  Confederate  General! 

General  Lee  had  watched  with  the  deepest  interest  the  result  of  the  charge 
of  the  brave  Virginians,  and  when  he  saw  it  fail  he  placed  his  finger  on  his 
lips,  and  for  a  moment  there  came  over  his  noble  face  a  shadow  of  disap- 
pointment— that  calm,  marble-like  face  that  had  never  bef  n  known  before, 
on  any  battle  field  of  the  war,  to  show  either  a  sign  of  disappointment  or  of 
triumph.  In  that  sad  moment  he  must  have  felt  his  disappointment  bitterly, 
for  perhaps  he  may  have  had  a  foreboding  of  that  future  when  the  star  of 
the  Confedei-acy  should  forever  set.  To  an  English  officer  near  him,  who 
had  come  to  witness  the  battle,  he  said  :  "  This  has  been  a  sad  day  for  us, 
Colonel — a  sad  day ;  but  we  can't  always  expect  to  win  victories." 

But,  whatever  his  thoughts  were,  the  action  of  the  great  commander  was 
truly  sublime,  for,  as  he  rode  toward  the  front  through  the  broken  troops, 
rallying  them  with  such  cheering  words  as:  "Never  mind,  we'll  talk  of 
this  afterward  ;  now  we  want  all  good  men  to  rally,"  his  face  was  placid  and 
cheerful,  showing  not  a  sign  of  annoyance  or  dismay.  Even  for  the  wounded 
he  had  words  of  kindness,  and  many  of  them  as  they  were  borne  past  took 
off  tlieir  hats  and  cheeivd  him.  It  was  a  grand,  affecting  and  inspiring 
scene  to  see  the  implicit  faith  of  those  troops  in  their  commander  as  he 
moved  among  them,  and  they  formed  in  regiments,  and  lay  down  calmly  and 
quietly  in  the  places  assigned  them. 

Gen.  Imboden,  one  of  Lee's  staff  officers,  for  whom  he  had  sent,  gives  us 
a  touching  and  pathetic  picture  of  the  great  Confederate  commander  as  he 
saw  him  soon  after  midnight,  on  the  night  after  the  battle.  When  Imboden 
reached  him  he  was  entirely  alone,  and  had  alighted  from  his  horse ;  and, 
says  that  officer,  "  He  threw  his  arms  across  his  saddle  to  rest  himself, 
and  leaned  in  silence  on  his  equally  weary  horse,  the  two  forming  a  striking 
group,  as  motionless  as  a  statue.  The  bright  moon  shone  full  upon  his 
massive  features  and  revealed  an  expression  of  Sadness  I  had  never  seen  on 
that  fine  face  before,  in  all  the  vicissitudes  of  the  war  through  which  he  had 
passed.  I  waited  for  him  to  speak,  until  the  silence  became  painful  and 
embarrassing,  when,  to  break  it  and  change  the  current  of  his  thoughts,  I 
remarked  in  a  sympathetic  tone  :  'General,  this  has  been  a  hard  day  on  you.' 
This  attracted  his  attention.       He  looked  up  and  replied  mournfully  :  'Yes, 


54  THROUGH    WJU   TO  PEACE. 

it  has  been  a  sad  day  for  us,'  and  immediately  relapsed  into  his  former  mood 
and  attitude." 

After  a  few  moments  of  silence  he  turned  to  Imboden,  as  he  raised  him- 
self erect,  exclaiming  excitedly:  "General,  I  never  saw  troops  behave 
more  magnificently  than  Pickett's  division  of  Virginians  did  to-day  in  their 
grand  charge  upon  the  enemy.  And  if  they  had  been  supported  as  they 
ought  to  have  been — but  for  some  reason  unknown  to  me  they  were  not — 
we  would  have  held  the  position  they  so  gloriously  won,  and  the  day  would 
have  been  ours."  Then,  in  a  tone  of  the  deepest  sorrow,  he  added:  "Too 
bad  !  too  bad  ! !  oh,  too  bad  !  ! ! "'  What  terrible  agony  he  felt  at  that  moment 
no  words  can  depict. 

With  this  desperate  charge  of  Pickett's  Virginians,  really  ended  the  battle, 
for  althcmgh  there  was  another  attempt  on  the  Federal  lines,  it  was  feeble 
and  of  little  consequence.  The  loss  of  the  Virginians  in  this  last  charge 
had  been  frightful.  Their  regiments  were  actually  cut  to  pieces.  A  ghastly 
example  was  where  a  regiment  entered  the  charge  numbering  two  hundred 
and  fifty  and  returned  with  but  thirty-eight  men. 

Thus  for  three  weary  days  was  fought,  and  thus  was  won,  the  great  battle 
of  Gettysburg — the  most  decisive  and  bloody  of  all  the  conflicts  of  the  Civil 
War.  And  through  that  baptism  of  blood  of  the  magnificent  amphitheatre 
at  Gettysburg  was  turned  the  fortunes  of  the  Confederacy,  for  although  lier 
soldiers  struggled  heroically  for  two  years  longer,  her  star  gradually  waned 
until  it  set  forever  on  an  April  day.  Gettysburg  was  not  only  great,  in  being 
one  of  the  bloody  conflicts  of  the  world,  but,  like  Waterloo,  it  was  great  in 
the  greatness  of  its  results.  Waterloo  decreed  a  change  of  dynasties,  and 
rang  the  curtain  down  forever  on  a  great  man's  colossal  ambition  ;  and 
Gettysburg  was  the  death  of  a  nation,  the  restoration  of  another,  and  the 
shattering  of  the  chains  of  four  million  slaves! 

When  that  last  day  was  done  on  the  battle  field,  it  was  literally  a  baptism 
of  blood,  for  its  rocks  were  sprayed  with  blood,  its  streams  and  pools  were 
crimsoned,  and  its  wheat  flelds  were  beaten  into  a  red  mire,  while  down 
the  few  stalks  of  grain  that  were  standing  trickled  tinij  globules  of  blood! 

Night  closed  over  the  scene,  but  ere  long  a  full  moon  arose  and  slied  a 

bright  light 

"O'er  the  welteriug  field  of  tombloas  dead." 

It  was  a  sad  and  ghastly  scene  that  the  moonbeams  fell  upon;  for  as  thick 
on  the  field  as  leaves  in  autumn  lay  the  mangled  bodies  of  the  slain,  while 
the  ground  was  wet  and  crimsoned  with  the  blood  of  44,567  men  who  had 
fallen  dead  and  wounded  in  that  Cyclopean  contest! 


CHAPTEK  XI. 

THE   STRUGGLE   WITH   DEATH. 

<(  Q|NTO  a  ward  of  the  whitewashed  halls, 

C/      Where  the  dead  and  dying  lay. 
Wounded  by  bayonets,  shells  and  balls. 

Somebody's  darling  was  borne  one  day. 
Somebody  wept  when  he  marched  away, 

Looking  so  handsome,  brave  and  grand; 
Somebody's  kiss  on  his  forehead  lay. 

And  some  one  clung  to  his  parting  hand." 


!>T  the  open  upper  wiudow  of  a  house  overlooking,  and  even 
above  the  field  of  strife,  a  girl's  beautiful,  curly  head  was 
leaning  on  a  little  dimpled  hand,  while  her  arm  rested  on  the 
window-sill.  Her  large,  lustrous  eyes  were  eagerly  watch- 
ing the  terrible  struggle  about  Little  Eound  Top,  and  as  she 
rested  there  it  would  have  required  but  a  single  glance  of 
those  who  knew  her  to  have  recognized  in  the  girl's  finely  formed  bust — as 
full  and  gracefully  rounded  as  a  sculptor's  model — the  demi-figure  of  Bertha 
Merton.  Her  face  was  very  pale,  but  very  beautiful,  for  there  was  a  deep, 
intellectual  interest  expressed  on  it,  and  a  tender  sweetness  in  the  large, 
liquid  eyes,  as  they  drank  in  a  prominent  figure,  leading  amid  the  thickest 
of  the  fight — that  of  General  Charles  Landon.  For  he  had  been  promoted 
to  the  command  of  a  brigade,  a  short  time  before,  for  gallantry  on  the  field. 
It  was  the  second  day  of  the  Battle  of  Gettysburg.  General  Longstreet's 
men  were  making  their  terrific  charge  on  the  Federal  position,  and  the  long 
lines  of  men  in  gray  had  lapped  about  Little  Eound  Top — that  steep,  rocky 
eminence  that  toweied  above  the  rest — the  key  of  the  battle  field,  which  the 
Confederates  wished  to  win,  and  which  the  Federals  were  determined  not 
to  lose. 

Around  the  rocky  height,  the  battle  raged  wild  and  furious,  the  artillery 
on  its  summit  poured  forth  a  murderous  fire,  while  behind  every  ledge  and 
boulder  flashed  forth  the  blaze  of  musketry.  Into  this  vortex  of  fire,  smoke 
and  death  charged  the  shadowy  lines  of  men  in  gray,  as  if  endeavoring  to 
choke  the  volcano  with  human  bodies.  But  the  Federals  met  every  advance 
of  the  serried  ranks  with  a  heavy  fire  and  a  wall  of  gleaming  steel.  Amid 
the  blue  lines,  where  the  conflict  raged  the  hottest,  rode  Charlie  Landon. 
Upon  his  pale  face  there  was  a  calm,  determined  expression,  for  his  lips 
were  set,  and  there  was  a  daring  glitter  in  his  dark  eyes  that  showed  his 
brave,  resolute  nature. 


56  THROUGH   WAR   TO    PEACE. 

Bertha  raised  the  spy  glass  she  held  in  her  hand  and  swept  the  field  until 
its  focus  rested  on  Charlie  Landon's  superb  figure,  conspicuous  amid  the 
storm  of  battle  by  its  graceful,  commanding  appearance.  And  no  wonder 
the  sight  aroused  a  thrill  of  admiration  in  her  breast,  for  his  noble  bearing, 
and  his  fine  form  and  head,  clearly  outlined  against  the  fire  and  smoke, 
would  have  won  respect  even  from  a  foe. 

As  she  was  eagerly  watching  him  he  suddenly  turned  fcis  horse  so  as  to 
■  almost  face  her — his  coat  was  wide  open,  for  the  heat  was  intense — when  to 
her  dismay  she  saw  that  his  white  shirt  front  was  half  crimson  toith  his 
blood. 

She  lowered  the  spy  glass,  and  there  came  a  wild,  frightened  look  into 
the  large,  dark  eyes,  that  told  of  anticipated  tragedy.  In  a  moment  she 
raised  ftie  small  telescope,  and  gazed  eagerly  at  his  figure,  like  one  under 
the  spell  of  some  weird  fascination,  while  in  the  velvety  depths  of  her  eyes 
there  remained  that  haunted  look  of  expected  calamity.  As  she  watched 
his  conspicuous  figure  amid  the  battle  she  saw  him  reel  in  the  saddle,  and 
fall! 

The  tragedy  she  had  anticipated  had  come,  and  as  she  dropped  the  glass 
her  eyes  filled  with  tears,  and  the  little  head  fell  heavily  on  her  arms,  as  in 
her  sorrow  she  realized  how  dearly  she  loved  him  still. 

In  a  few  moments  she  raised  her  head,  and,  brushing  away  the  tears  that 
were  tiickling  down  her  cheeks,  sprang  quickly  to  her  feet,  as  she  muttered 
to  herself:  "This  will  not  do.  I  must  not  give  waj'  to  grief,  when  perhaps 
I  might  be  of  assistance  to  him." 

Catching  up  a  buffalo  robe  that  lay  on  a  chair,  she  threw  it  over  her  arm, 
and  hastened  from  the  house.  She  walked  rapidly  forward,  and  each  mo- 
ment, as  she  drew  nearer  and  nearer  the  battle,  she  met  the  soldiers  bringing 
away  the  wounded,  until  those  bearing  new  sufferers  became  one  continuous 
stream.  And  then  the  roar  of  the  conflict  became  almost  deafening,  while 
tlie  bullets  fell  thick  about  her;  but  heedless  and  fearless  of  them,  she 
hurried  onward.  At  last  she  saw  Ids  well  known  form  lying  on  a  litter, 
borne  by  two  soldiers ;  although  he  was  insensible,  he  still  breathed  strong 
and  regularly.  She  sprang  to  the  side  of  the  litter,  which  was  a  rude  wooden 
affair,  without  any  padding,  or  even  a  covering  of  cloth. 

"Oh  !"  she  exclaimed,  as  she  stood  by  the  litter,  "don't  those  rough  slats 
hurt  him?" 

"Yes,"  x'eplied  one  of  the  men,  "they  seemed  to  hurt  him  severely,  for, 
although  he  is  insensible,  he  groaned  several  times  as  we  carried  him  along. 
But  it  was  the  best  we  could  do." 

"  But  can't  we  put  this  buffalo  robe  under  him?"  she  asked,  taking  it  from 
her  arm . 

"  Yes,  that  is  the  very  thing.     It  is  fortunate  that  you  brought  it." 

They  gently  raised  him,  while  Bertha's  nimble  little  hands  soon  placed 
the  robe  beneath ;  and  as  his  bruised  body  sank  on  the  soft  bed,  she  heard, 
or  imagined  she  heard,  a  sigh  of  relief  issue  from  his  lij<s.  As  he  lay  there, 
so  pale  and  handsome,  on  the  white  rgbe — as  yet  but  slightly  stained  with 
his  blood — she,  in  spite  of  her  sorrow  and  deep  concern,  became  irresistibly 
entranced  by  the  statuesque  beauty — yet  thrilled  with  life — of  his  fine  face 


THROUGH    WAR    TO  PEACE.  57 

and  form.  In  her  artistic  nature,  she  seemed  to  realize  in  the  beautiful  form 
before  her,  how  the  Greek  heroes  of  old — whom  Homer  loved  to  picture — 
must  have  appeared,  as  they  lay  on  the  battle  field  before  Troy.  Those 
wondrous  pictures  Homer  gives  us  in  the  Iliad,  of  the  flower  of  the  youth 
of  Greece  and  Troy,  lying  on  the  field  of  battle  "in  the  stately  repose  of 
death,"  their  blood  enrichmg  in  color,  by  its  crimson  contrast,  their  marble 
white  temples  and  blood-stained  curls  of  gold.  So  sublimely  beautiful  does 
Homer  paint  the  ancient  youth  with  their  war-stained  curls,  in  the  Serene, 
pathetic  beauty  of  death,  like  some  exquisite  statue,  about  which  the  color 
of  life  still  lingers,  that  he  fascinates  us,  and  almost  wins  us  to  love  wounds 
and  death.  And  as  Charlie  lay  there  among  the  soft  folds  of  the  white  robe, 
with  the  form  of  a  Greek  hero  and  the  head  of  an  Apollo,  the  red  blood 
staining  like  a  wreath  of  carnation  the  dark  curls  that  clustered  af)out  his 
wliite  brow,  while  so  serene  was  the  expression  of  his  face,  so  fine  and  beau- 
tiful the  blending  of  the  crimson  with  the  dark  hair,  in  the  battle-stained 
cuils,  that  it  brought  no  suggestion  of  horror  or  distaste  to  her  artistic  na- 
ture, as  she  thought,  so  must  have  appeared  the  greatest  of  the  old  Greek 
heroes,  Achilles,  as  he  lay  before  the  ScEean  gate  of  Troy. 

She  was  roused  from  her  reverie  by  one  of  the  soldiers  remarking  :  "That 
robe  is  the  very  thing.  He  rests  easily  upon  it.  Which  way  shall  we  carry 
him?" 

"  To  the  house  yonder,"  she  replied,  bursting  into  tears. 

They  carried  him  to  the  house,  and  up  into  the  room  she  had  left  but  a 
short  time  before,  and  laid  him  on  the  bed.  Then  the  men  departed,  but 
one  of  them  soon  returned,  accompanied  by  a  surgeon.  Although  the  sur- 
geon was  young  in  years,  he  soon  showed  that  he  lacked  neither  skill  nor 
experience,  for  he  quickly  extracted  the  bullet  from  the  wounded  man's 
arm,  and  ligated  the  severed  artery,  from  which  the  blood  was  flowing.  He 
then  turned  his  attention  to  the  wound  in  Landon  s  breast.  The  bullet  had 
penetrated  painfully  near  the  heart,  and  as  Bertha  assisted  him  to  dress  the 
wound  he  replied,  in  answer  to  her  eager  question,  "  It's  a  very  dangerous 
wound,  and  he  is  very  weak  from  the  loss  of  blood.  He  must  have  remained 
for  some  time  in  the  saddle  after  being  struck  by  the  bullets,  and  all  the 
while  the  wounds  were  bleeding.  But  while  there's  life  there's  hope.  But 
it  will  be  several  days  before  he  regains  consciousness." 

After  he  had  applied  a  styptic  to  the  wound  and  dressed  it,  he  said : 
"Here  is  a  prescription;  get  it  filled,  and  give  him  some  of  the  medicine  as 
soon  as  you  can  get  him  to  swallow.  I  suppose  the  General  is  your  bro- 
ther?" he  continued. 

He  did  not  notice  the  blush  that  suffused  her  tear-stained  cheeks,  for  he 
was  gazing  down  .at  the  wounded  soldier ;  and  without  waiting  for  an  answer 
he  continued,  as  an  excuse  for  his  hurry  :  "  I  must  leave  him  now.  In  all  the 
battles  of  the  war  in  which  I  have  been  engaged,  I  have  never  seen  so  many 
wounded  men  before.  The  surgeons  are  nearly  worn  out.  But  my  little 
lady,"  he  added,  kindly,  as  he  saw  fresh  tears  fill  her  eyes,  "keep  up  a  brave 
heart,  and  you  may  win  him  back  to  health  again.  I  will  return  to  assist 
you  all  in  my  power  at  the  earliest  opportunity." 

When  the   surgeon  had  departed,  her  overstrung  nerves  could  bear  the 


58        THROUGH    WAR    TO    PEACE, 

tension  no  longer,  and,  leaning  her  head  upon  her  arms,  she  burst  into  a 
flood  of  tears.  And  as  she  sobbed,  she  felt  the  old  love  for  him  came  back 
with  treble  its  former  force,  as  she  remembered  the  happy  bygone  days  they 
had  spent  together.  "And  oh  !"  she  thought,  "if  he  should  die,  it  would 
be  the  end — the  dreadful  end  of  ail  my  happy  dreams  !  "  After  weeping  she 
felt  better,  for  her  trials  and  sorrows  seemed  to  become  dispersed  on  the 
bright  wings  of  Hope.  For  physiologists  tell  us  that  tears  are  nature's 
remedies,  which  relieve  and  soothe  the  nervous  system  from  overpowering 
griefs  and  burdens.  After  bathing  her  face,  she  went  to  a  hospital  and  ob- 
tained the  medicine.  On  her  return  she  occupied  herself  for  some  time  in 
maliing  the  poor  fellow  as  comfortable  as  possible,  with  that  tender  care 
that  a  woman  intuitively  knows  so  well  how  to  do.  Then  she  sat  down  in  a 
chair  by  a  window,  as  she  felt  unreservedly  that  it  was  her  duty  to  nurse 
and  protect  him  during  his  helplessness.  Her  pride  and  waywardness  had 
fled ;  she  thought  only  of  doing  all  in  her  power  for  him,  as  she  prayed  that 
God  might  give  her  strength  to  nurse  him  back  to  health;  and  unhesitat- 
ingly would  she  have  risked  her  lite  to  save  his. 

What  a  mystery  and  seeming  contradiction,  yet  wondrous  power  is  woman. 
Place  her  in  a  conservatory,  foster  and  indulge  her  every  whim,  and  she 
becomes  a  thing  of  fancy,  waywardness  and  frivolity — annoyed  by  a  dew- 
drop,  fretted  by  a  thorn,  ready  to  faint  at  the  sight  of  a  beetle  or  a  mouse, 
and  starting  back  affrighted  at  the  darkness.  But  let  a  dire  calamity  come, 
arouse  her  sympathy  and  affection,  enkindle  the  fires  of  her  heart,  and  then 
behold  the  wonderful  change !  What  a  wealth  of  affection  and  strength  is 
in  her  heart !  Transplant  her  in  a  new  field,  give  her  a  weakly  animal  or  a 
child  to  protect,  or,  on  the  field  of  battle,  a  wounded  soldier  to  attend  and 
care  for;  see  her  then  lift  her  own  white  arms  as  -a  shield,  heedless  of  her 
once  crimson  cheeks,  that  are  growing  pale  as  she  wears  her  life  away  to 
aid  the  helpless.  Watch  her  in  the  dark  places  of  earth,  as  she  disputes, 
step  by  step,  the  march  of  disease,  pestilence  and  death,  while  others,  seem- 
ingly stronger  and  braver,  shrink  away.  Silently,  calmly,  nobly  she  meets 
misfortune,  faces  pain  and  danger — with  less  timidity  than  she  formerly  met 
an  admiring  gaze — and  ever  with  consolation  in  her  heart,  and  a  blessing  on 
her  lips.  In  the  hour  of  triumph  and  splendor,  she  appears  a  butterfly  of 
uselessness,  but  let  adversity  come,  then  behold  her  true  worth — a  diamond 
of  the  flrst  water,  freed  from  the  dross  !  Thus  woman  is  a  wondrous  mys- 
tery, from  whom  radiates  the  charm  of  the  darkest  places,  as  well  as  the 
brightest  spots  of  earth  ! 

As  Bertha  sat  there  in  the  afternoon's  waning  light,  she  could  not  help 
watching  his  handsome  face  with  admiration.  And  lying  there,  he  really 
formed  a  line  picture  of  manly  beauty,  his  face  slightly  tui^ied  to  one  side, 
and  his  head  reclining  lightly  on  his  arm,  which  was  half  buried  in  the 
snowy  pillow ;  his  dark  hair  curling  in  a  profusion  of  ringlets  over  his  pale 
brow,  his  cheeks  plump  and  white — where  not  browned  by  exposure;  his 
dark  brown  moustache  shading  the  mouth  and  dimpled  chin  with  the  old, 
familiar  boyish  sweetness  about  them  she  remembered  so  well ;  the  collar 
of  his  shirt  was  rolled  back,  exposing  the  white,  round  throat,  which  arose 
gracefully  from  the  firm,  square  shoulders,  almost  as  plump  as  those  of  a 


THROUGH    WAR     TO     PEACE.  59 

girl ;  his  eyes  were  gently  closed,  hiding  the  light  in  them,  which  she  had 
seen  so  often  melt  into  softness  in  the  presence  of  those  he  loved,  or  glitter 
with  daring  when  facing  a  foe ;  he  breathed  lightly,  and  seemed  to  be  rest- 
ing easily,  except  for  an  occasional  twinge  of  the  muscles  of  the  neck  and 
shoulder,  which  showed  that  he  suffered  pain.  Altogether,  viewed  in  the 
afternoon's  sunlight,  it  was  a  face  few  could  look  upon  and  not  admire  and 
trust.  And  there  came  into  her  heart  an  irresistible  longing  to  possess  a 
picture  of  that  noble  face  she  loved  so  dearly,  for  she  felt  it  would  lighten 
her  sorrow  to  still  retain  the  image  of  his  face,  although  he  should  betaken 
from  her  forever.  She  brought  the  best  sketching  material  she  could  find, 
and  went  quietly  and  eagerly  to  work,  and  although  she  had  done  no  artistic 
work  since  leaving  St.  Arlyle,  she  found  she  was  as  skillful  as  ever  with  the 
pencil  and  brush.  Seated  by  a  small  table  in  the  waning  light  of  that  sultry 
July  afternoon,  with  the  battle  raging  so  near  that  the  smoke  and  roar  of 
the  canncm  rolled  into  the  room,  while  the  concussion  of  the  great  guns 
shook  the  house,  she  applied  herself  diligently  in  making  a  drawing  of  the 
face  she  cherished  so  dearly  and  feared  she  might  lose  forever. 

As  she  drew  the  outlines  of  his  face,  all  the  old  love  welled  up  in  her 
heart,  and  as  she  gazed  with  inexpressible  pity  and  emotion  upon  him,  there 
came  over  her  a  sudden  irresistible. impulse,  and,  walking  to  the  bed,  she 
knelt  by  his  side  and  dropped  a  kiss  upon  his  lips,  as  silently  and  lightly  as 
a  dew-drop  falls,  as  she  murmured  :  "Oh  !  my  poor  boy  !     My  poor  boy  !" 

She  drew  back,  almost  aiJrighted,  as  her  face  grew  crimson  and  hot  with 
shame,  for  she  thought  she  saw  his  eyes  partly  open  and  his  lips  move. 
But  this  must  have  been  a  momentary  delusion,  caused  bj'  her  agitation,  for 
when  she  looked  again  he  still  lay  in  the  same  unconscious  state. 

Thus  during  the  afternoon,  when  not  attending  to  the  wounded  soldier, 
she  occupied  herself  at  her  drawing.  Night  came,  and  with  it  the  close  of 
the  second  day  of  the  battle,  and  her  portrait  was  nearly  finished. 

It  was  almost  noon  the  next  day  before  she  was  able  to  resume  her  draw- 
ing. The  last  s<:)unds  of  the  conflict  had  died  away  early  in  the  morning, 
and  the  warm  sultry  air  swept  into  the  room  amid  a  deep  silence,  only 
broken  by  the  noise  of  her  brash  or  pencil  on  the  canvas.  But  it  was  the 
calm  soon  to  be  broken  by  that  memorable  storm  of  destruction  of  the  3d 
of  July,  that  through  all  the  after  years  of  her  life  she  never  could  forget. 

The  little  clock  on  the  shelf  had  almost  marked  the  hour  of  one,  when 
there  came  a  terrific  roar  from  the  Confederate  guns  that  shook  the  house. 
For  nearly  fifteen  minutes  they  roared  away  without  a  reply.  Theu  came 
the  Federal  answer,  all  alone  their  line,  from  the  mouths  of  almost  300  can- 
non. The  roar  of  the  artillery  was  fearful ;  the  house  shook  and  rocked 
till  it  seemed  to  her  like  a  ship  in  a  gale ;  the  window  panes  were  shattered 
to  fragments  and  the  glass  strewn  on  the  floor ;  the  table  before  her  seemed 
to  dance,  while  her  hand  seemed  to  beat  about  on  the  canvas.  She  could 
not  remain  quiet,  but  rushed  repeatedly  to  the  window  and  gazed  out ;  she 
could  see  nothing  but  the  thick  clouds  of  sulphurous  smoke,  amid  which 
flashed  the  flames  from  the  cannons'  mouths.  From  the  window  she  re- 
peatedly went  to  the  wounded  soldier's  side  and  gazed  at  his  face,  but  he 
always  lay  in  the  same  trance-like  sleep — unconscious  of  it  all.       Thus  for 


60  THROUGH    WAR   TO  PEACE. 

two  hours  raged  the  terrible  storm  of  human  wrath ;  then  came  a  lull  in 
the  mighty  cannonade.  Then  she  watched  eagei'ly  and  excitedly  the  last 
desperate  struggle  for  victory  between  the  opposing  infantry,  as  Pir.kett's 
Virginians  charged  fiercely  and  stubbornly  up  the  hill  amid  the  storm  of 
bullets  and  balls,  while  the  smoke  hung  about  their  partly  hidden  ranks,  like 
banks  of  mist.  Thus  the  afternoon  wore  away,  and  the  sun  sank  lower  and 
lower,  till  it  appeared  a  great  fiery  ball  in  the  west ;  then  she  saw  the  Con- 
federates fall  back  in  wild  confusion,  and  she  knew  their  charge  had  failed, 
and  that  thg  great  battle  of  Gettysburg  was  ended  ! 

Ske  sat  in  silence  by  the  window  till  the  last  beams  of  day  faded,  and  the 
flashes  and  reports  of  the  pickets-'  muskets  grew  less  and  less  frequent,  till 
at  last  thej'  became  silent  in  the  gathering  gloom ;  then,  as  the  sentinel 
stars  began  to  fill  the  sky,  there  came  into  her  heart  a  feeling  of  sadness 
— a  feeling  of  impending  grief  and  pain,  hanging  over  her  like  a  black  pall ! 
Can  it  be  possible  that  in  the  hidden  and  mysterious  workings  of  the  mind, 
there  came  to  her  a  premonition  of  the  loss  and  sorrow  the  darkness  was 
bringing?  For  that  night,  on  the  battle  field,  she  lost  forever,  b  ■  a  picket's 
random  shot,  one  of  the  dearest  and  truest  friends  of  her  girlhood,  although 
she  did  not  learn  of  it  until  long  afterward. 

Throughout  the  mighty  roar  of  the. battle,  and  for  weeks  after,  Charlie 
Landon  remained  unconscious.  For  consciousness  had  entirely  left  him 
from  the  moment  he  fell  from  his  horse,  while  resisting  at  the  head  of  his 
men  the  fierce  charge  of  the  Confederate  infantry.  He  felt  the  sharp  sting 
of  the  bullet'wounds  in  his  arm  and  breast,  but,  heedless  of  them,  he  rode 
onward,  until  from  the  loss  of  blood  he  grew  suddenly  faint,  and  there 
seemed  to  dart  through  his  brain  a  thousand  flashes  of  light,  mingled  with 
a  terrible  roar,  while  the  sun  grew  suddenlj'  dark,  and  he  seemed  to  be  fall- 
ing into  an  immense  black  gulf ;  and  then  consciousness  left  him.  The  first 
faint  revival  of  feeling  was  followed  by  a  succession  of  dreams  of  the  wild- 
est imaginable  sufferings.  He  was  crushed  beneath  the  wheels  of  the 
wheels  of  the  Juggernaut  car.  He  was  stretched  on  the  bed  of  Piocrustes, 
while  the  inhuman  Damaster  hacked  and  pulled  his  limbs  asunder.  He  was 
Tantalus,  in  water  up  to  his  chin,  yet  unable  to  quench  his  burning  thirst. 
He  was  Tityus,  chained  to  a  rock,  while  the  vultures  were  constantly  gnaw- 
ing at  his  vitals.  Then  came  a  delightful  change  in  his  visions.  An  angelic 
face  hovered  above  him,  while  soft,  gentle  hands  cooled  his  parched  lips 
and  bathed  his  burning  brow.  And  oh  !  how  sweet  and  delicious  it  all 
was!  Then  the  old  horrors  would  return,  but  ere  long  the  same  sweet, 
sympathetic  face  would  float  above  him,  and  the  same  gentle  hands,  wfth  ice 
cold  water,  would  quench  his  burning  thirst  and  cool  his  aching  brow.  Once 
he  thought  the  beautiful  face  bent  down  and  kissed  him  tenderly.  And  then 
he  thought  how  much  its  features  resembled  Bertha's  lovely  face. 

At  last,  one  day  toward  the  close  of  August,  he  awoke  perfectly  rational. 
It  was  an  exquisite  summer  afternoon,  and  the  balmy  air  swept  into  the 
room,  laden  with  the  redolence  of  tree  and  flower,  and  he  lay  in  the  large, 
cool,  airy  apartment  with  a  delicious  feeling  of  pleasure  and  rest.  As  he 
turned  his  head  on  the  pillow  he  made  a  slight  noise.  Instantly  a  girlish 
figure  reading  near  the  window  glanced  toward  the  bed,  and  then  glided 


THROUGH    W\4R   TO   PEACE.  61 

from  the  room.  But  not  before  he  had  recognized  the  beautiful  face  Of 
Bertha,  the  same  sweet,  pitying  face  that  he  had  seen  in  all  his  dreams. 

From  that  day  his  recovery  was  rapid.  But  he  did  not  see  again  the  face 
he  most  wished  to  look  upon  with  the  deepest  yearnings  of  his  heart.  And 
his  first  inquiry,  when  he  was  able  to  be  about  the  room,  was  for  her.  They 
informed  hiiu  that  she  had  sailed  from  New  York  for  Rome,  there  to  study 
paintmg  for  the  next  two  years.  It  was  a  bitter  disappointment  to  him, 
but  he  bore  it  bravely.  The  first  day  he  was  able  to  walk  about  the  room, 
he  found  lying  on  the  table  a  dainty  blue  gold-banded  cap  that  he  had  often 
seen  Bertha  wear.  It  had  been  presented  to  her  by  the  wounded  soldiers  of 
a  Fredericksburg  hospital,  during  their  convalescence,  as  a  tribute  of  their 
gratitude  for  her  many  deeds  of  kindness  to  them.  He  took  up  the  cap 
almost  reverentially,  and  placed  it  in  the  breast  pocket  of  his  coat,  as  he 
thought  it  was  the  last  memento  of  the  girl  he  still  truly  and  tenderly  loved, 
and  who  in  his  helplessness  had  with  her  own  hands  guarded  him  from 
death.  And  he  felt  how  readily,  yea,  gladly,  would  he  give  the  life  she  had 
saved  to  prove  his  gratitude  and  love  for  her.  "But  alas  !''  he  thought  sadly, 
"we  may  never  meet  again,  but  I  shall  love  her  truly  as  long  as  life  remains. 
May  Heaven  protect  her,  and  shower  its  brightest  blessings  on  her  curly 
head  !" 

When  he  had  gained  sufificient  strength  he  joined  his  brigade  again,  and 
followed  Ihe  fortunes  of  the  Army  of  the  Potomac  to  the  close  of   the  war. 


CHAPTEK  XII. 

AT    REST    IN    HEAVEN. 

Virtus  requiei  nescia  sordidce. 
JtOR  none  return  from  those  quiet  shores 
ci     Who  cross  with  the  boatman  cold  and  pale; 
We  hear  the  dip  of  the  golden  oars. 

And  catch  a  gleam  of  the  snowy  sail ; 
And  lo  1  they  have  passed  from  our  yearning  hearts. 

— IV.  A.  Priest. 


■pT  was  the  evening  of  the  close  of  the  great  Battle  of  Gettysburg; 
the  dim  twilight  was  fast  fading  into  night,  and  through  the 
gathering  mist  that  was  steadily  enveloping  the  battle  field,  the 
early  stars  twinkled  with  an  uncertain  light.  The  main  bodies 
of  the  great  opposing  armies  had  fallen  back  to  their  camping 
grounds,  and  already  their  camp-fires  were  casting  shifting  and 
fantastic  flashes  of  light  and  shadow  on  the  banks  of  mist  and  the  adjoining 
trees.  The  advanced  pickets  of  the  contending  forces — who  were  not  more 
than  three-quarters  of  a  mile  apart — kept  up  a  desultory  tire  at  each  other, 
as  the  red  flashes  darting  through  the  mist,  followed  by  the  whiz  of  bullets, 
plainly  told. 

Colonel  Edward  Wilberton  was  riding  along  the  Confederate  picket  line, 
when  in  the  gathering  gloom  he  suddenly  thought  he  saw  a  familiar  figure 
near  him,  and,  turning  his  horse,  he  rode  toward  it.  He  was  not  mistaken, 
for  it  was  his  wife.  May,  who  had  just  arisen  from  dressing  a  soldier's  wound 
and  giving  him  a  drink  of  spirits.  As  her  husband  approached  her  he  cried 
excitedly,  as  he  heard  a  bullet  hum  past  his  head  : 

"  Ma}',  for  Heaven's  sake  go  back !  This  is  no  place  for  you.  You  are 
recklessly  risking  your  life  !" 

"  But  what  will  become  of  this  wounded  man?"  asked  the  noble  girl. 
"I  will  send  an  ambulance  to  remove  him,"  he  answered,  as  he  sprang 
from  his  horse.     And  as  hurried  toward  her,  he  exclaimed  excitedly  :  "Hurry, 
iviay !      You  must  not  stay   here  !       I  will  go  with  you,  but  for  my  sake  be 
quick  !     It  is  dangerous,  my  darling  !" 

The  words  had  scarcelj'  left  his  lips,  when  she  was  struck  full  in  the  left 
breast  by  a  bullet.  But  before  she  fell  he  caught  her  in  his  arms,  as  he 
cried:  "Oh  my  darling!" 

He  pillowed  her  head  on  his  breast,  just  as  the  warm  blood  spurted  over 
her  dress,  staining  it  a  crimson  hue.     He  hastily  tore  open  the  bosom  of  her 


THROUGH    IVJR   TO  PEACE.  63 

dress,  and  endeavored  to  staunch  the  flow  with  his  handl^erchief,  but  in 
vain.  It  poured  forth,  deluging  the  snowy  breasts  and  crimsoning  the  golden 
hair,  that  had  fallen  over  her  shoulders. 

"Oh  my  darling!  you  are  dying!"  he  cried  in  agony. 

"  Don't  feel  so  bad,  Edward  dear,  cried  the  noble  girl.  "I'm  in  God's 
hands  and " 

Her  head  fell  against  his  shoulder,  and  the  words  died  on  her  lips.  He 
placed  his  canteen  to  her  lips,  and  after  a  few  sips  she  rallied,  and  throwing 
her  arm  around  his  neck,  rested  calmly  in  his  encircling  arms.  For  often,  on 
the  battle  field,  the  wound  that  is  mortal  is  painless,  and  so  hers  seemed  to 
be,  for  after  a  moment  she  raised  her  blue  eyes,  and  looking  into  his  face 
with  all  a  woman's  tender  trust,  said  : 

"Don't  cry,  Edward.  I'm  not  suffering.  And  above  all  are  God's  ever- 
lasting arms." 

After  a  moment's  silence  she  continued  :  "  I  want  you  to  tell  Bertha  when 
you  see  her,  that  my  last  moments  were  peaceful  and  happJ^  And  tell  her 
to  crush  back  her  pride  and  to  be  true  to  her  own  heart's  love,  and  Heaven 
will  bless  her." 

She  grew  rapidly  weaker,  as  she  said,  with  a  struggle:  "Good  bye,  my 
boy.  Don't  feel  so  bad.  We've  had  a  happy  life  together.  It  seems  hard 
to  go.  Yet  God's  will  be  done.  I  shall  surely  meet  you  on  the  shining  shore 
of  peace.     Farewell!" 

"Oh,  my  darling  May,"  he  cried,  as  her  arm  tightened  convulsively  and 
passionately  around  his  neck,  and  her  eyes  eagerly  sought  his,  with  a  last, 
wild,  loving  glance.  Then  the  little  hand  relaxed  its  grasp  on  his  neck,  and 
the  snowj'  eyelids  drooped  forever  over  the  sweet  blue  eyes.  He  bent  his 
head  quickly  and  kissed  the  red  lips,  as  with  her  parting  breath  a  heavenly 
smile  flitted  over  them,  then  as  his  head  sank  on  her  breast,  he  felt  the 
last  throb  of  ner  heart,  and  he  knew  that  her  rosy  lips  would  never  smile 
upon  him  again,  and  that  her  sweet  blue  eyes  would  never  greet  him  more ! 

The  mist  had  melted  away,  and  the  last  rays  of  twilight  fell  full  upon  her 
dainty,  drooping  form,  yet  beautiful,  even  in  death,  and  seemingly  clinging 
to  him,  just  as  she  had  clung  with  her  last  parting  strength ;  while  he  still 
cla'^ped  her  form  with  all  the  tenderness  of  his  dei  p  love  !  Thus  solemnly 
the  last  light  faded  and  night  enveloped  the  Pennsylvania  hills — and  dark  and 
gloomy  it  fell  upon  him.  In  that  long,  sorrowful  night  that  closed  around 
him,  sprang  forth  the  shadowy  spectres  of  sweet  memories,  hopes  and  affec- 
tions that  haunted  him  but  to  remind  him  that  they  were  dead ;  yet  at  first 
he  did  not  fully  realize  his  loss.  It  came  upon  him  by  degrees,  with  a  feeling 
of  desolation — like  one  alone  on  a  rocky  isle — that  his  first  love,  and  that  his 
brightest  hopes,  dreams  and  wishes  were  shattered  forever !  The  night  wore 
on,  and  the  full  moon  shed  its  light  over  the  field,  but  still  he  remained, 
grasping  the  beloved  form,  motionless,  dazed  and  bewildered,  like  one  in  a 
dream.  The  clear,  silvery  moonlight  fell  full  upon  her  form,  where  yet  lin- 
gered the  wondrous  beauty  of  her  slender,  rounded  figure,  with  the  long,  light 
colored  hair,  the  beautiful  white  face,  as  finely  moulded  as  that  of  a  statue, 
the  snowy  eyelids  fringed  by  the  long  dark  lashes,  the  fine  cut  lips,  as  ten- 
derly wreathed  in  a  smile  as  if  yet  animated  with  life,  the  throat  and  sheul- 


64  THROUGH   WAR    TO    PEACE. 

ders  round  and  white,  and  the  snowy  breasts  beautifully  carved  and  unmarred 
in  their  whiteness,  except  for  the  small  red  wound,  which  showed  where  the 
tide  of  life  had  ebbed  away.     Thus  unchanged, 

"  Death  lay  on  her  like  an  untimely  frost 

Upon  the  sweetest  flower  of  all  the  field." 

Long  after  midnight  they  found  him,  still  clinging  to  her  dead  form.  They 
bore  her  body  into  camp,  and  he  followed,  like  one  in  a  trance.  The  next 
day  he  had  her  body  sent  away  to  be  buried  in  the  St.  Arlyle  graveyard. 
Then  with  a  broken  and  bruised  heart  he  joined  his  regiment  again,  and 
fought  through  the  war  to  the  bitter  end.  No  wonder  those  few  Southern 
soldiers  remaining  toward  the  close  of  the  war  resisted  so  stubbornly  and 
desperately  though  they  knew  their  cause  was  hopeless,  for  by  the  loss  of  their 
homes,  firesides,  and — like  Edward  Wilberton — those  they  had  loved  as  dearly 
as  their  own  lives,  they  grew  fearless  and  reckless,  till  even  death  itself 
had  no  terrors  for  them  1 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

NEARING     THE    END. 

<<JJ<|IGHT  closed  around  the  conqueror's  way, 
^*'    And  lightning  showed  the  distant  hills. 
Where  those  who  lost  that  dreadful  day 
Stood  few  and  faint,  but  fearless  still." 


E  new  come  to  the  closing  scenes  of  the  Civil  War.  The 
days  of  the  last  conflicts  around  Richmond,  on  old  Vir- 
ginia's blood-stained  soil.  General  Grant's  immense  army 
had  been  pouring,  day  and  night,  for  weeks,  a  heavy  fire 
with  mortar,  cannon  and  musket  upon  the  Confederate 
lines  in  front  of  Petersburg.  When  a  Federal  fell  he  was  replaced  by  a  re- 
cruit. But  when  a  Confederate  was  killed  his  place  remained  vacant. 
Death,  disease  and  desertion  had  so  reduced  Lee's  army  in  those  last  days  in 
March,  1865,  that  he  did  not  have  one  man  to  every  ten  feet  of  fortificatityi. 
Starvation  stared  them  in  the  face,  like  a  hungry  woif,  for  unbolted  corn 
and  black  molasses  were  their  only  rations,  and  even  these  were  dealt  out  to 
them  in  meager  quantities,  while  their  clothing  was  in  rags,  and  hundreds 
of  them  were  almost  barefooted.  Grant's  great  army  gave  them  no  rest, 
and  men  who  fought  all  day  to  save  one  point  weie  marched  all  night  to  be 
ready  to  save  another.  Tired  and  worn  out.  the  Confederate  soldiers  fell 
asleep  but  to  be  awakened  by  the  bursting  of  shells  in  their  midst,  or  by 
the  fierce  attack  of  their  assailants.  During  their  last  long  defense  of  Pet- 
ersburg and  Richmond,  when  it  must  have  been  as  apparent  to  all  that  their 
cause  was  hopeless  as  it  was  to  Lee  himself,  they  struggled  on  through  a 
sea  of  troubles  and  hardships  with  a  patriotism  and  devotion  that  the  world 
must  ever  acknowledge  was  truly  heroic. 

Meanwhile,  every  day  Grant's  great  army  was  extending  its  lines  and  en- 
circling them  like  an  immense  boa  constrictor.  And  in  the  grimness  of 
despair  the  Confederate  chieftain  resolved  to  make  a  daring  and  desperate 
eilort  to  pierce  the  mighty  FeJ.eral  army  that  was  crushing  him  in  its  folds. 
This  daring  venture  was  an  attempt  to  penetrate  and  cut  the  mighty  Fed- 
eral army  through  its  center.  The  plan  was  to  attack  Fort  Steadman 
(one  of  Grant's  strongest  and  most  advanced  forts)  at  night,  and  also 
the  three  other  forts  commanding  it;  then,  after  capturing  them,  to  push 
forward  and  fall  upon  the  rear  of  the  National  army.  By  thus  surprising  the 
great  army  at  night  it  would  give  the  Confederates  a  chance  of  success.     And 


66  THROUGH    WAR   TO   PEACE. 

if  the  forts  were  captured  the  Federal  army  would  be  cut  in  two,  and  thrown 
into  confusion. 

A  few  minutes  before  midnight,  on  the  25th  of  March,  the  Confederates 
silently  assembled  at  their  salient  point,  in  front  of  the  fort,  to  be  ready 
to  rush  upon  it.  Every  man  was  prepared  and  knew  the  work  before  him. 
The  open  space  over  which  they  must  rush  could  be  swept  by  over  thirty 
Federal  cannon  and  more  than  five  thousand  muskets.  Every  detail  had 
been  planned,  and  the  last  preparation  was  for  each  Confederate  to  tie  a  white 
cloth  around  his  arm,  so  that  he  could  be  recognized  l)y  his  comrades  in  the 
dark. 

First  rushed  across  tho  open  space  about  two  hundred  men,  armed  with 
axes,  who  in  five  minutes  cut  down  the  abatis  in  front  of  the  fort.  Had 
these  men  attempted  to  cross  the  space  by  daylight  not  one  of  them  would 
have  lived  two  minutes.  Following  these  men  came  the  stormmg  columns 
of  infantry,  who,  after  capturing  the  pickets,  swarmed  into  the  fort.  So 
surprised  were  the  Federals  in  the  fort  that  they  offered  no  resistance,  for 
when  they  sprang  to  their  feet  they  were  confronted  by  Confederate  bayo- 
nets. After  capturing  the  fort  the  attacking  columns  pressed  forwai-d,  but 
in  the  darkness  the  guides  became  confused,  and  the  men  were  unable  to 
find  the  works  that  commanded  Fort  Steadman,  and  with  breaking  of  day 
the  Confederates  were  compelled  to  retreat  to  the  captured  works,  and  General 
Gordon,  who  had  directed  the  assault,  made  preparations  to  hold  the  fort. 

The  moment  daylight  broke  the  Federal  artillerymen  sighted  their  guns 
on  the  fort,  while  at  the  same  time  the  Confederates  trained  their  heavy 
guns  to  reply,  and  for  over  an  hour  a  terrific  artillery  contest  was  main- 
tained. Round  shot,  shell  and  grape  fell  so  rapidly  into  the  fort  that  soon 
every  gun  in  it  was  silenced,  and  the  ground  inside  was  covered  with  dead 
and  wounded.  But  still  the  Confederates  clung  to  the  fort,  and  although 
the  Federals  made  three  charges  upon  it,  they  were  i-eceived  with  such  a 
heavy  musketry  fire  that  they  were  compelled  to  fail  back.  But  gradually 
the  mighty  Federal  army  drew  closer  and  closer,  and  finally  an  entire  corps 
prepared  to  assault  the  fort.  There  now  only  remained  for  the  Confederates 
in  the  fort  either  to  await  capture  or  to  retreat  across  the  narrow  open  space, 
swept  by  the  National  artillery  and  musketry. 

Hundreds  of  Confederates  attempted  to  escape  by  rushing  across  the  open 
space  to  their  own  lines.  They  started  singly,  and  in  numbers,  but  however 
they  started  the  result  was  the  same  ;  they  were  mowed  down  by  the  storm  of 
bullets.  Men  who  started  alone  would  be  struck  by  a  dozen  bullets.  And 
out  of  squads  of  thirty  or  forty  who  started  to  cross  the  vale  of  death,  but 
two  or  three  would  escape.  Thus  for  over  an  hour  they  endeavored  to  escape, 
till  the  open  space  was  literally  covered  with  the  dead.  These  retreats  grad- 
ually weakened  the  force  in  the  fort,  and  it  was  finally  carried  by  a  Federal 
charge. 

General  Lee  had  staked  all  in  this  last  desperate  venture  and  lost,  and 
that  night  his  force  was  weaker  by  fifteen  hundred  men.  The  cloud  that 
had  ever  hung  over  the  stormy  events  of  the  Confederacy,  often  growmg 
bright  in  the  early  days  of  the  war,  but  to  suddenly  grow  dark  at  Gettys- 
burg, and  again  on  the  battle  field  of  the  Wilderness,  had  now  grown  blacker 


THROUGH    WAR    TO   PEACE.  67 

and  more  threatening,  till  its  heavy  sliadow  toid  unmistaliably  of   the  im- 
pending end  ! 

*  *  *  *  ;S 

In  this  battle  fell  several  of  St.  Arlyle's  men,  and  among  them  Bertha 
lost,  that  night,  one  of  the  truest  and  best  friends  of  her  girlhood,  noble 
Dr.  Granville.  In  exposing  himself,  with  his  accustomed  bravery,  wherever 
the  cause  of  suffering  humanity  led,  he  sprailg  conspffcuously  on  one  of  the 
redoubts  to  rescue  a  wounded  soldier.  A  perfect  storm  of  bullets  fell  around 
him,  and  it  was  the  last  time  many  of  the  men  ever  saw  his  statelj'  and  well 
known  form,  for  he  was  struck  full  in  the  breast  by  a  bullet  from  a  sharp- 
shooter's rifle,  and  fell  mortally  wounded  into  the  arms  of  an  officer  of  the 
St.  Arlyle  regiment,  who  with  the  assistance  of  others  bore  him  to  the  rear. 

They  soon  found  a  surgeon,  who,  after  dressing  the  wound,  recognized 
In  his  patient  a  former  friend,  whom  he  had  not  seen  for  years.  As  their 
eyes  met  the  former  exclaimed  : 

"  Why,  it  is  Benjamin  Granville  !     Do  you  remember  me?" 

"  Yes,  very  well,"  replied  Dr.  Granville. 

"  I  once  did  you  a  great  injury,  long  years  ago,  and  I  have  been  sorry  for 
it  many  times  since.     Can  you  forgive  me?"  said  the  surgeon. 

"Yes,"  replied  Dr.  Granville,  "for  I  forgave  you  many  years  ago.  You 
know  Bacon  says,  'He  that  cannot  forgive  others,  breaks  down  the  bridge 
over  which  he  must  pass  himself.'  And  one  of  the  noblest  lessons  I've 
learned  in  life  is  to  forgive,  and,  as  far  as  the  heart  can,  to  forget,  so  that 
through  the  march  of  years  my  heart  has  grown  lighter  and  more  peaceful 
as  I  descend  life's  rugged  pathway.  Thus  it  becomes  the  calmest  and 
happiest,  just  before  the  tomb,  like  a  flower  of  spring  time,  the  brightest 
before  it  fades.  ' 

"What  do  you  think  of  ray  case?"  Dr.  Granville  asked  suddenly. 

"  It  is  a  very  dangerous  wound,"  replied  the  old  surgeon,  as  he  shook  his 
head  sadly. 

"Yes,  as  a  surgeon,  I  understand  it  full  well,''  said  Dr.  Granville.  "The 
wound  is  mortal.  I  had  hoped  to  live  to  see  peace  again.  But  I  submit  to 
a  higher  will  than  mine.  It  was  my  greatest  wish  to  see  my  country  again 
at  peace.  For  I  think  the  Republic's  grandest  glory  is  just  beginning  to 
dawn  through  the  vista  of  coming  years.  For  the  brightest  years  and  noblest 
are  often  those  after  emerging  from  the  gloom  of  strife  and  care,  like  the 
bright  sunshine  that  bursts  at  last  through  a  stormy  sky,  flooding  all  around. 
And  I  still  believe  a  republic  is  the  true  form  of  government,  for  it  is  based 
on  the  principles  of  equal  rights  to  all,  equal  on  earth,  as  they  will  be  in 
Heaven,  rewarded  when  they  do  right,  punished  when  they  do  wrong." 

At  that  moment  one  of  Dr.  Granville's  friends  approached  his  bed  and 
said: 

"Oh,  I  am  so  sorry  your  case  is  hopeless  !" 

"No,  not  hopeless,"  said  the  noble  man,  "for  I  still  have  Heaven.  And 
there  is  nothing  so  sweet  in  life  as  going  home  to  Heaven.  Tired  with  the 
struggles  of  earth,  we  lay  down  the  burden  at  last,  for  the  eternal  rest. 
For  God  has  said,  '  Be  thou  faithful  unto  death  and  I  will  give  thee  a  crown 
of  life.'" 


6S  THROUGH    WAR   TO   PEACE. 

He  lingered  on  in  pain  until  evening,  but  no  word  of  complaint  or  moan 
escaped  his  lips,  lest  those  around  him  In  the  hospital  tent,  less  dangerously 
"wounded  than  himself,  should  hear  it  and  feel  discouraged.  As  the  darkness 
closed  around  and  the  "cease  firing"  was  sounded  through  the  Federal  lines, 
a  smile  stole  over  his  face,  and  those  who  were  beside  his  bed  knelt  down  to 
catch  his  dying  words.  They  were  of  the  happy,  peaceful  years  passed  in 
the  little  village  of  Str  Arlyle,  and  in  his  thoughts  he  was  again  in  the  col- 
lege class  room,  once  more  instructing  the  students,  now  scattered  over  the 
wide  world,  for,  stretching  forth  his  hand,  he  said  :  "It  grows  dark,  stu- 
dents, you  may  go  !  But  the  glorious  light  is  bursting  on  the  other  shore  !" 
Then  he  turned  his  head  wearily  on  the  pillow,  and  the  "light  of  immortal 
beauty  silently  covered  his  face,"  as  Benjamin  Granville  yielded  up  his  noble 
and  loving  soul  to  the  God  who  gave  it.  His  grave  is  in  the  little  church 
yard  in  St.  Arlyle,  and  over  it  stands  a  marble  monument,  but  his  greatest 
tomb  is  in  the  hearts  of  the  men  and  women  who  loved  him  too  truly  ever 
to  need  a  marble  shaft  to  remind  them  of  the  noble,  generous  man  ! 

Bertha  read  of  his  death  in  Rome,  in  an  article  in  an  American  journal, 
entitled  "A  Great  Loss  to  Science."  And  tears  tilled  her  eyes  as  she  real- 
ized that  in  his  death  she  had  lost  another  of  the  trut.'st  and  noblest  friends 
of  her  girlhood's  years.  And  as  she  sat  in  the  waning  light  by  the  window 
overlooking  the  waters  of  the  Tiber  there  arose  through  the  mist  of  her 
tears  a  sea  ot  familiar  faces,  all  victims  of  the  terrible  Civil  War,  and  each 
intimately  linked  with  her  own  life,  some  cherished,  others  dearly  beloved. 
One  of  them  was  that  of  a  dark-haired  boy,  who  fell  in  the  early  days  of 
the  war,  on  the  picket  line  along  the  Potomac  River,  with  a  bullet  through 
his  brave  young  Irish  heart.  She  remembered  well,  when  they  bore  him 
into  camp,  with  the  night  dew  still  fresh  on  his  young,  pale  face,  and  buried 
him  in  a  soldier's  grave,  with  a  wreath  on  his  breast — a  tribute  from  her 
own  hands. 

And  another — a  man's  face,  who  i-eceived  his  mortal  wound  on  the  battle 
field  of  Chancellorsville ;  one  who  had  been  wild  and  wayward,  and  at  times 
even  wicked,  but  who,  ere  his  heart  was  stilled  forever,  had  found  the 
perfect  faith  and  peace. 

And  still  another — a  sweet,  girlish  face,  with  bright  blue  eyes  and  sunny 
hair,  who  died  with  a  bullet  through  her  pure  young  heart,  on  the  field  of 
Gettysburg.  "Ah  my  darling  May,"  Bertha  murmured,  "how  little  did  I 
think  when  we  wandered  together  through  the  shady  lanes  and  over  the 
green  meadows  of  St.  Arlj'le,  and  past  the  little  church  yard,  that  you  would 
meet  your  death  on  the  field  of  battle,  and  that  your  final  resting  place 
would  so  soon  be  there.  Sweet,  calm  and  pale  your  face  must  have  appeared 
when  you  met  the  end,  with  kind  thoughts  and  wishes  for  others,  even  in 
the  throes  of  death,  like  that  noble  man's  face,  peaceful  and  calm,  for  he 
feared  not  death.  So  will  your  faces  appear  on  the  shore  of  the  great  Here- 
after, if  I  am  permitted  to  see  them  there,  only  far  nobler  yet,  with  the  halo 
of  immprtal  beauty  around  your  heads !" 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

THE    DAWN     OF     PEACE. 


© 


BEAUTEOUS  peace  I 

Sweet  union  of  a  state!  what  else  but  thou 
Gives  safety,  strength,  and  glory  to  a  people? 

—Thompson. 


N  all  human  events,  at  some  period  the  curtain  falls,  and  the 
plaj'  is  over ;  so  we  novv  come  to  the  last  act  in  the  bloody, 
drama  of  the  great  Oivil  War.  Even  the  Confederates  knew 
the  end  was  coming  fast.  For  the  shadows  were  already 
gathering  darkly  that  were  soon  to  envelop  the  last  faint 
ray  of  hope !  The  shattered  Army  of  Northern  Virginia, 
now  reduced  to  less  than  eight  thousand  men,  had  fallen  back  to  the  little 
town  of  Appomattox.  The  Confederate  troops  were  almost  in  a  hopeless 
condition,  their  strong  works  in  front  of  Fredericksburg  captured,  their 
lines  of  retreat  and  communication  severed  by  their  being  driven  upon  the 
peninsula  formed  by  the  James  and  Appomattox  rivers,  while  in  their  front 
the  great  Federal  army  was  closing  upon  them  in  the  form  of  a  mighty 
semicircle,  yet,  in  the  grimness  of  despair,  that  fragment  of  the  once  proud 
Army  of  Northern  Virginia,  like  a  dying  lion  at  bay,  still  now  and  then 
makes  the  foe  feel  the  sharp  sting  of  its  claws,  and  still  tosses  its  royal  head 
in  defiance. 

It  was  scarcely  daylight  on  the  morning  of  the  9th  of  April — the  day  that 
is  to  decide  the  fate  of  Lee's  army — but  already  the  roar  of  the  cannon  an- 
nounces that  the  battle  has  begun.  As  the  sun  mounts  higher  the  roar  of 
the  guns  grows  louder,  and  the  battle  becomes  more  and  more  general. 
And  as  the  serried  ranks  of  the  great  semicircle  approach  the  Confederates, 


70  THROUGH   WAR   TO   PEACE. 

they  catch  in  the  distance,  through  the  trees  and  undp'-brush,  an  occasiorval 
glimpse  of  Sheridan's  cavalrymen  as  they  close  upon  the  foe !  But  the 
Confederates  attack  the  cavalry  savagely,  and  as  they  drive  it  back,  a  cheer 
bursts  from  their  ranks,  but  in  a  few  minutes  more  their  exultation  is 
changed  to  despair,  for  they  see  that  the  cavalry  is  but  falling  back  upon  the 
heavy  masses  of  infantry  and  artillery  that  form  the  mighty  semicircle  that 
is  advancing  to  envelop  them  like  the  irresistible  hand  of  Fate  !  Rapidly 
the  Federal  troops  dash  over  swamp  and  stream,  with  the  wildest  excite- 
ment, for  they  know  that  unless  the  enemy  can  break  through  their  lines 
within  fifteen  minutes  all  is  over  with  the  Army  of  Northern  Virginia.  As 
the  great  semicircle  closes  about  the  Confederates,  the  battle  rages  all  along 
the  line,  while  the  sky  becomes  ablaze  with  flame,  as  the  cannons  and 
mort  irs  hurl  forth  their  shot  and  shell ! 

Suddenly  two  horsemen  gallop  out  from  the  Confederate  line,  and  one  of 
them  waves  a  flag  of  truce,  while  the  other — heedless  of  the  storm  of  bullets 
and  balls^ — rides  rapidly  across  the  open  space,  and,  as  he  gracefully  salutes 
the  Federal  commander,  he  says  : 

"Sir,  General  Longstreet  desires  a  cessation  of  hostilities  until  he  oan 
hear  from  General  Lee,  as  to  a  proposal  of  surrender." 

Immediately  the  fire  slackens  on  both  sides,  and  in  a  few  moments  more 
the  order  is  sounded  along  the  Federal  line  to  "cease  firing"  and  to  halt. 
The  die  is  cast!    The  end  has  come! 

A  truce  is  agreed  upon  until  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon.  Four  o'clock 
comes,  but  no  word  is  heard  from  either  of  the  great  commanders,  and  there 
is  no  alternative  left  but  to  renew  the  battle,  as  the  order  is  issued  along 
the  Federal  lines  :  "  Prepare  to  make  or  receive  an  attack  in  ten  minutes.'' 
The  ten  minutes  elapse,  and  the  Federal  skirmishers  are  pressing  forward, 
when  suddenly  comes  the  order  to  halt,  and  with  it  the  information  that 
Lee  lias  surrendered.  Instantly  the  Federal  lines  are  broken,  and  cheer 
after  cheer  rends  the  air  until  late  in  the  night. 

Early  in  the  afternoon  of  that  day — the  9th  of  April,  1865 — an  officer, 
accompanied  by  but  a  single  aid,  rode  out  of  the  Confederate  camp  toward 
the  Federal  lines.  He  was  mounted  on  a  powerful  gray  horse,  and  wore  a 
spotless  gray  uniform,  that  fitted  his  large  and  finely  moulded  figure  to  per- 
fection, while  on  the  collar  of  his  coat  glittered  the  stars  of  the  highest  rank 
of  the  Confederate  Army.  There  was  a  natural  dignity  and  modest  reserve, 
blended  with  a  singular,  calm  gentleness  about  his  every  action  that  would 
win  from  the  most  casual  observer  respect,  even  admiration.  His  hair  was 
as  white  as  the  driven  ^suow,  his  face  was  very  pale,  and  there  was  a  deep 
expression  of  sadness  upon  it,  yet  blended  with  a  rare  charm  of  sweetness 
and  intelligence;  his  brow,  thoughtful  and  grave,  was  tinged  with  the 
shadows  of  care  and  sorrow,  while  his  bright  eyes  lighted  up  his  face  with 
a  singular  fascination  one  could  not  soon  forget;  but  that  which  would  have 
most  attracted  one's  attention  was  the  calm  expression  of  power  and  deter- 
mination, so  indelibly  imprinted  there  that  it  seemed  nothing  in  life  could 
shake.  Altogether  it  was  an  intellectual, face  of  a  man  of  rare,  magnetic, 
commanding  power  and  penetrating  judgment. 

As  he  approached  a  Confederate  outpost,  the  soldiers  saluted,  and  the 


THROUGH    WAR   TO   PEACE.  71 

officer  bowed  with  a  cold  smile  that  rendered  his  face  even  more  sad.  When 
he  had  passed,  one  of  the  soldiers  exclaimed  :  "  It  is  General  Lee,  going  to 
surrender  the  army  !" 

"Yes,"  replied  another,  "and  I  tell  j'ou  it's  a  hard  duty  for  him  to  per- 
form." 

On  reaching  the  house  where  the  terms  of  surrender  were  to  be  arranged. 
General  Lee  and  his  aid,  Colonel  Marshall,  dismounted  and  entered  a  small 
room  in  the  left  corner.  It  was  an  old  styled,  double  house,  with  a  piazza 
extending  across  the  front,  and  was  known  as  the  McLean  house.  In  the 
small  room  where  the  interview  took  place  were  gathered  several  offi- 
cers, and  among  them  were  two  young  men  seated  at  a  table,  reducing 
to  writing  the  terms  of  the  surrender  of  the  Army  of  Northern  Virginia  to 
the  Army  of  the  Potomac.  One  of  the  young  men.  Colonel  Marshall — a 
great-grandson  of  Chief  Justice  Marshall — was  acting  on  behalf  of  General 
Lee ;  the  other,  a  man  with  a  dusky  countenance — a  grand-nephew  of  the 
celebrated  Indian  chief,  Red  Jacket — was  acting  under  Ulysses  S.  Grant. 

At  a  short  distance  apart,  and  facing  each  other,  sat  two  remarkable  men  ; 
remarkable  for  having  been  the  chief  actors  in  the  great  Civil  War.  The 
larger  and  elder  of  the  two  was  the  more  impressive  in  his  appearance.  His 
face  pale  and  massive — seemingly  with  an  expression  of  calm  indifference 
upon  it — was  surrounded  by  a  mass  of  snow  white  hair.  There  was  not  a 
spot  upon  his  bright  gray  uniform,  and  the  gauntlets  which  he  wore  were 
as  white  and  unsullied  as  a  lady's  glove.  He  was  fully  equipped  with 
sword,  belt  and  sash.  That  was  General  R.  E.  Lee.  The  other  was  a 
smaller  man,  with  a  remarkably  determined  face,  but  on  which  there  was 
now  a  peculiar  expression,  like  that  on  a  man's  countenance  who  is  endeav- 
oring not  to  give  jjain,  but  seems  at  a  loss  how  to  avoid  it.  In  his  dress  he 
contrasted  stronglj'  with  Lee;  his  boots  were  almost  covered  with  mud,  his 
uniform,  the  coat  of  which  was  minus  several  buttons,  was  splashed  with 
spots  of  earth,  and  he  wore  no  sword,  belt  or  sash.  All  together,  he  looked 
like  a  soldier  who  had  just  returned  from  a  lough  campaign.  That  was 
Ulysses  S.  Grant,  the  victor. 

The  greeting  between  the  two  commanders,  though  short,  was  courteous, 
even  kind,  and  they  immediately  proceeded  to  business.  It  was  a  great 
and  thrilling  occasion,  and  wonderful  memories  must  have  crowded  upon 
those  two  men  as  they  sat  face  to  face.  Memories  that  must  have  thrilled 
their  hearts  as  their  thoughts  wandered  back  to  those  stirring  scenes  during 
those  four  years  of  Civil  War,  when  brothers'  swords  were  wet  with 
brothers'  blood,  and  in  which  they  had  been  the  leading  actors  on  the  op- 
posing sides.  And  now  at  last  the  end  had  come,  and  they  had  met  together 
to  sheath  their  swords  in  peace  and  drop  the  curtain  forever  on  one  of  the 
most  remarkable  and  bloody  dramas  of  the  Nineteenth  Century  ! 

In  that  little  room  there  fell  a  death-like  silence,  broken  only  by  the 
scratch  of  the  secretaries'  pens  upon  the  paper,  for  all  felt  the  overpowering 
inllueuce  of  the  great  scene  they  were  witnessing.  The  silence  was  so  deep 
and  continuous  that  at  last  it  became  embarrassing,  and,  to  break  the  spell, 
General  Grant  said,  apologetically,  a&t  he  noticed   the   fully  equipped  and 


7^  THROUGH    WAR     TO     PEACE. 

faultlpss  appearance  of  Lee,  contrasting  vividly  with  liis  own  negligent  dress 
and  absence  of  arms  : 

"General  Lee,  I  have  no  sword;  I  have  been  riding  all  night.  I  do  not 
always  carry  a  sword,  because  a  sword  is  sometimes  a  very  inconvenient 
thing." 

Lee  made  no  reply,  but  in  a  formal,  almost  haughty  manner,  bowed  with 
a  grace  and  pride  that  after  all  became  him  so  well.  Again  the  silence  fell, 
seemingly  deeper  and  more  embarrassing  than  before.  When  again,  to 
relieve  the  awkwardness  of  the  occasion.  General  Grant  asked  : 

"  General  Lee,  what  became  of  the  white  horse  you  rode  in  Mexico?  He 
might  not  be  dead  yet;  he  was  not  so  old." 

Lee  bowed  in  the  same  formal  manner,  as  he  replied : 
'I  left  him  at  the  White  house,  on  the  Pamunky  river,  and  I  have  not 
seen  him  since." 

At  last  the  secretaries  had  reduced  to  writing  the  terms  of  the  surrender, 
when  the  two  commanders  signed  the  instruments,  after  which  there  was  a 
whispered  conversation  between  Grant  and  Lee,  which  no  one  else  but  the 
two  great  chieftains  heard.  Then  General  Lee  arose  in  that  stately  pride 
that  seemed  a  part  of  the  man,  and  bowed  separately  to  each  officer  on  the 
Federal  side.  Then,  turning,  he  left  the  room,  and  striding  down  the  gar- 
den in  front  of  the  house,  bestrode  the  gray  horse  that  had  carried  him 
through  all  the  Virginia  campaigns,  and  rode  away. 

When  Lee  had  left  the  room,  Grant  called  his  officers  about  him,  and  then 
they  learned  the  import  of  the  whispered  conversation,  as  the  Federal  chief- 
tain said : 

"General  Lee's  army  is  on  the  point  of  starvation,  and  we  must  assist 
them  all  we  can.  You,"  he  said,  naming  an  officer,  "go  to  the  Fifth  Corps, 
and  you  to  the  Twenty-foui-th,"  thus  naming  every  corps,  "and  ask  every 
man  who  has  three  rations  to  turn  over  two  to  the  Confederates.  Go  to  the 
coinraissaries  and  the  quarterniasters,  and  tell  them  to  send  all  the  food  they 
can  spare." 

The  orders  were  quiekly  obeyed,  and  before  night  '25,000  rations  were 
carried  to  the  Army  of  Northern  Virginia. 

As  General  Lee  rode  slowly  back  in  silence,  there  gradually  mingled  with 
the  deep  sadness  on  his  face  a  far-away  expression,  as  if  his  thoughts  were 
wandering  to  other  scenes  in  that  bloody  droma,  in  which  he  had  acted  such 
a  prominent  part,  and  no  words  can  express  the  humiliation  that  proud 
nature  must  have  felt,  as  he  met  face  to  face  the  bitter  end  of  all  his  hopes. 

When  early  in  the  afternoon  Lee  had  been  seen  riding  toward  the  McLean 
house,  the  rumor  of  the  surrender  flew  rapidly  through  the  Confederate 
camp.  And  when,  about  3  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  he  was  seen  slowly  and 
thoughtfully  riding  back,  it  was  known  that  the  terms  of  sui  render  had 
been  completed.  Beaching  his  headquarters,  he  called  his  officers  about 
him  and  explained  to  them  the  terms  of  the  surrender.  On  hearing  them 
they  expressed  their  entii'e  satisfaction  at  his  course.  The  lines  of  battle, 
which  had  been  drawn  up  awaiting  a  possible  renewal  of  the  conflict,  were 
then  broken,  and  eagerly  the  men  crowded  around  their  chief  to  clasp  his 
hand.       It  was  a  touching  scene,  as  they  crowded  around  their  old  com- 


THROUGH    WAR    TO  RE  ACE.  73 

mandcr — uuder  whom  they  had  fought  on  many  a  bloody  field  for  four  long 

years — and  expressed  their  love  and  confidence  in  him  still.     Many  of  their 

eyes  were  moist  as  they  shook  his  hand  and  felt  they  were  parting  forever 

from  their  beloved  chieftain.       Sad  indeed  it  was  for  those  proud  men,  to 

hear  that  they  could  do  no  more,  but  furl  their  colors  forever  and  go  back  to 

their  shattered  homes  again ;  but  in  their  simple  words  and  actions  there 

was  something  grand  and  noble,  and  their  commander  felt  that  there  was 

no  need  of  words  of  explanation,  or  vain  regrets  to  such  heroic  men,  as  he 

said  tiimplj',  while  over  his  face  came  almost  a  womanly  tenderness  : 

"  Men,  we  have  fought  through  the  war  together,  and  I  have  done  the  best 

I  could  for  you." 

*  *  *  ,  *  « 

On  the  12th  of  April  the  Army  of  Northern  Virginia  had  its  last  review, 
and  as  early  as  five  o'clock  on  that  morning  a  Federal  division,  under  Gen- 
eral Chamberlain,  was  formed  in  line  of  battle  to  receive  the  surrender  of 
the  arms  and  colors  of  the  Confederates.  The  Federal  line  was  nearly  a 
mile  in  length,  extending  from  the  river  bank  along  the  streets  of  the  village, 
almost  to  the  court  house.  As  they  stood  there  they  saw,  through  the 
morning  mist,  the  Confederates  breaking  camp,  and  then  slowly  and  reluc- 
tantly forming  ranks  for  the  last  time.  Then  the  Southern  men  wheeled 
into  column  of  march  and  moved  forward,  with  their  battle  flags,  the  stars 
and  bars,  flying.  Fiist  came  General  Gordon,  with  Stonewall  Jackson's 
corps,  then  Longstreet's  corps,  commanded  by  Heath.  As  the  head  of  the 
Confederate  column  arrived  opposite  the  Federal  right,  the  bugle  sounded, 
and  the  National  troops  presented  arms,  while  their  officers  saluted.  The 
Confederate  commander.  General  Gordon,  noticing  this  courteous  recogni- 
tion, also  brought  his  men  to  a  present  and  saluted  with  his  sword.  Then 
the  Confederates  wheeled  into  line  of  battle,  and  the  two  former  contending 
armies  i^tood  facing  each  other  in  y)eace  for  the  first  time  and  the  last! 

Amid  not  the  sound  of  a  trumpet,  nor  the  roll  of  a  drum,  but  in  a  still- 
ness as  if  the  dead  were  passing  there,  the  Southern  soldiers  stepped  forward 
in  squads  and  stacked  their  arms  and  took  off  their  cartridge  boxes  and 
placed  them  in  heaps.  And  last  of  all,  thej'  furled  their  battle  flags,  and  as 
they  laid  them  in  the  dust — the  colors  they  had  risked  their  lives  so  often  to 
defend — they  knelt  down  and  kissed  them,  while  their  eyes  filled  with  burn- 
ing tears.  It  was  a  touching  scene,  and  many  a  heart  was  full,  even  on 
the  Federal  side.  Then  only  the  stars  and  stripes  waved  over  the  field. 
Thus  throughout  the  day  the  men  of  division  after  division  marched  forward 
and  surrendered  their  arms,  then  after  they  had  given  their  word  of  honor 
never  to  take  up  arms  against  their  counlry  again,  they  were  set  at  liberty. 
Meanwhile,  during  that  entire  day  not  a  cheer,  not  a  taunt,  not  even  a  whis- 
pered boast  of  vain  glory  escaped  from  a  single  Federal  soldier.  For  there 
came  over  the  victors  a  tender  feeling  of  almost  brotherly  friendship  for 
their  former  foes,  as  they  felt  they  were  fellow  soldiers  and  fellow  coun- 
trymen at  last! 

In  this  last  closing  scene  General  Grant  was  not  present,  and  with  a  ten- 
derness that  will  ever  be  remembered  by  those  vanquished  men,  he  spared 
everything  in  his  power  that  would  wouuil  their  feelings,  or  that  tended  to 


7Jf  THROUGH    JFJE   TO   FEACE. 

imply  the  humiliation  of  a  conquered  foe.  But,  on  the  contrary,  he  received 
the  surrender  of  the  Southern  men  with  a  kind  recognition  that  they  were 
soon  to  be  friends  and  countrymen  again.  Nor  did  General  Grant's  magna- 
nimity end  here,  for  he  insisted  that  the  private  property  of  the  Confederates 
should  be  respected,  though  the  public  property  of  the  Southern  army  should 
be  surrendered.  And  when  asked  if  they  should  surrender  their  horses,  he 
answered,  "No,  tell  them  to  keep  them;  they  will  need  them  to  plow  their 
farms." 

The  Confederates,  after  having  surrendered  their  arms  and  accoutrements, 
and  taking  the  oath  of  allegiance,  were  allowed  to  roam  at  will.  Then  fol- 
lowed a  remarkable  scene,  rarely  if  ever  witnessed  in  the  world's  history 
before,  victor  and  vanquished  mingled  in  one  great  fraternal  friendship, 
while  the  Federals  divided  with  them  their  food,  tobacco,  otc.  It  was  truly 
a  wonderful  scene  of  forgiving  and  foi'getting. 

There  was  one  knot  of  soldiers  collected  near  the  right  of  the  field,  who 
would  have  especially  attracted  one's  attention  by  their  unusual  jollity  and 
good  fellowship.  And  it  needed  but  a  single  glance  of  the  beholder  to  tell 
that  they  were  former  members  of  the  Vandal  Club.  Some  were  in  blue 
uniforms,  others  in  gray,  but  national  differences  had  no  effect  on  their 
hilarity  and  friendship.  In  their  midst  stood  Tom  Gleaton,  distributing  the 
food  in  his  knapsack,  and  at  the  same  time  discussing  the  edible  qualities 
of  sawdust  pudding. 

"Well,'"  said  a  Vandal  in  gray,  in  answer  to  a  question  from  Gleaton,  "you 
know  for  the  last  two  months  we've  been  pretty  hard  up  for  food,  in"  fact, 
we  haven't  had  any  at  all.  And  the  pangs  of  starvation  have  a  very  trying 
effect  on  a  fellow's  ingenuity,  so  when  we  came  to  an  ©Id  saw  mill,  we  re- 
solved to  make  some  .-awdust  pudding.  We  got  some  sawdust,  stirred  it 
up  with  water,  put  in  some  sugar,  and  baked  it  over  a  camp  fire." 

'.'Well,  how  did  it  eat?"  asked  Gleaton. 

"It  was  a  pretty  tough  dose.  Little  better  than  leather  soup,  but  still  it 
was  better  than  nothing  !" 

At  this  moment  the  little  group  was  joined  by  General  Landon,  who,  alter 
he  had  shaken  hands  with  the  Vandals  in  gray,  distributed  the  food  in  his 
email  bag  among  them,  which  was  eagerly  devoured. 

"But,"  said  Landon,  in  answer  to  their  complaints,  "didn't  you  have  any 
meat?" 

"Oh,  once  in  a  while  we  killed  a  mule,  and  I  tell  you  it  is  wonderful  how 
such  small  bits  of  meat  stood  so  much  chewing!" 

At  this  juncture  the  men  in  gray  were  joined  by  a  terrible  hungry  looking 
African,  who,  attracted  by  General  Landon's  bright  shoulder  straps,  poked 
a  Vandal  in  the  back  and  whispered  in  his  ear : 

"Ax  de  General  if  he  has  food  of  any  description  'bout  his  pusson." 

"Hush  up.  Sambo,"  replied  the  Vandal,  "do  you  think  the  General's  a 
traveling  cook-shop?" 

••  But  he  mought  have  a  little  extra  bacon?"  suggested  the  darkey. 

"Hush  up,"  said  another  Vandal,  "you're  always  hungry." 

The  negro's  pantomimic  motions  had  not  escaped  Gleaton's  observation, 
who  said  to  Landon,  "he's  a  terrible  hungry  looking  African.     The  personi- 


THROUGH    WAR   TO  PEACE.  75 

fication  of  starvation.     I'can  tell  by  the  drop  of  his  under  jaw." 

"  How  about  the  size  of  his  mouth?''  suggested  Landon. 

*'A  fine  opening  for  provisions." 

General  Landon  had  sent  for  a  quantity  of  food,  which  now  arrived,  and 
the  negro  eagerly  stepped  forward  to  participate  in  the  feast. 

"Hold  on,"  said  Landon,  with  a  merry  twinkle  in  his  eye,  "  youn;  an 
enemy,  and  it's  against  the  laws  of  war  to  feed  an  enemy." 

"  I  wuz,  Massa  General,  but  golly,  I'ze  loyal  'nough  now." 

"  Well  then,  we'll  have  to  feed  you." 

Ami  soon  the  negro  was  devouring  the  food  with  great  gusto,  as  he 
rolled  the  whites  of  his  eyes  about. 

A  Vandal  in  gray  was  cutting  the  rind  off  some  bacon,  when  a  pompous 
officer  of  the  commissary  general's  staff  passing  exclaimed:  "Young  ujan, 
it  has  been  customary  heretofore  to  eat  bacon  rind  and  all." 

"All  right,  old  man,"  replied  the  Vandal,  amid  a  roar  of  laughter,  "I'm 
cutting  it  off  for  you! 

After  the  Vandals  in  blue  and  gray  had  shaken  hands  all  around,  they 
parted  with  the  best  of  feelings  toward  each  other,  as  Gleaton  said,  "Now 
we'll  forgive  past  animosities,  and  sheath  the  sword,  bury  the  hatchet,  t-lose 
the  temple  of  Janus,  furl  the  battle  flag,  smooth  grim  visaged  war's  wrinkled 
front,  extend  the  olive  branch, " 

"And,"  added  Landon,  "smoke  the  calumet  of  peace." 

"Thank  you  for  the  suggestion,''  replied  Gleaton,  "and  if  any  of  you 
don't  happen  to  have  a  calumet  about  your  person,  a  clay  pipe  will  answer 
all  practical  purposes  just  as  well." 

"  Here  she  is,"  said  a  Vandal,  pulling  out  a  short,  black  pipe. 

Leaving  the  St.  Arlyle  group.  General  Landon  walked  down  the  Confed- 
erate Ime,  eagerly  scanning  every  knot  of  men  in  gray.  At  last  his  face 
lighted  up  with  an  unusual  interest,  as  he  caught  sight  of  Ned  Wilberton, 
the  object  of  his  search,  and  hurried  toward  him.  As  the  two  friends  met, 
for  the  first  time  since  the  commencement  of  the  war,  they  clasped  hands 
in  silence,  with  hearts  too  full  for  words.  Landon  was  the  tiist  to  break 
the  silence,  as  he  said,  sympathetically: 

"This  is  a  sad  ending  for  you,  my  dear  fellow !  And  I  am  sincerely  sorry 
for  you,  but  perhaps  it  is  for  the  bept." 

"I  hope  so,"  said  Wilberton,  sadly.  "  But  I  can't  say  so  yet.  But  I 
hope  some  time,  with  God's  help,  to  be  able  to  do  so.  But  my  heart  is  too 
full  of  sorrow,  and,  I'm  afraid,  of  bitterness  also,  to  say  so  now.  Yet  I 
know  it  is  the  duty  of  a  soldier  and  of  a  true  man  to  bear  no  enmity  against 
his  former  foe.  Yet  you  know  all  it  has  cost  me ;  more  than  my  country, 
the  life  of  her  I  held  dearer  than  my  heart's  blood.  But  I  know  it  would 
be  her  wish,  if  she  were  living,  to  speed  the  day  of  peace  and  friendship 
between  the  North  and  South,  and  sq,  with  God's  help,  I  shall  try  and  full- 
fill  her  wish,  on  my  humble  part." 

"Heaven  bless  you,"  said  Landon,  "and  help  you  to  bear  your  trials  and 
afflictions.  I  know  her  death  was  a  terrible  blow  to  you,  for  she  was  as 
noble  a  girl  as  ever  lived !" 

After  a  short  conversation  the  two  friends  parted,  with  hearts  too  full  to 


76  THROUGH    WAR   TO  PEACE. 

longer  trust  themselves  in  each  other's  presence.  * 

As  General  Landon  walked  onward  he  came  to  a  clump  of  bushes  in  which 
a  number  of  soldiers  were  collected.  And  there  he  saw  one  of  the  most 
touching  sights — in  its  very  pathetic  sweetness — of  all  the  sad  scenes  of  war 
— the  dead  form  of  a  little  drummer  boy  of  wondrous  beauty.  He  was 
dressed  in  a  full  blue  uniform,  and  as  he  lay  he  appeared  like  a  dethroned 
statue  of  an  Apollo.  His  face  was  as  beautiful  as  a  god's  and  as  fair  and 
delicate  as  that  of  a  girl ;  his  right  arm  grasped  his  drum  and  his  left  rested 
gently  across  his  breast.  He  seemed  rather  as  if  sleeping,  than  dead. 
Kneeling  beside  him  was  another  little  drummer  boy  in  gray — no  larger  than 
the  other — endeavoring  to  pour  water  from  a  canteen  between  the  wliite, 
cold  lips,  but  his  efforts  were  vain,  for  the  little  fellow  had  been  dead  for  an 
hour  or  more. 

It  was  a  wonderfully  affecting  scene  in  its  pure,  tender  pathos,  and  grim 
old  warriors'  ejes  were  wet,  that  had  not  been  moist  before  for  years. 

After  gazing  in  silence  for  several  moments  at  the  touching  scene,  General 
Landon  said,  as  his  voice  grew  husky  with  emotion  : 

"  It  is  a  sad  sight,  yet  a  beautiful  omen  of  the  lasting  peace  of  the  Re- 
public, for  it  portends  that  the  rising  generation  are  forgiving  and  forgetting, 
ere  the  sounds  of  the  conflict  have  died  away." 

Then,  as  Landon  stepped  forward  and  gently  raised  the  little  Confederate 
in  his  arms,  he  said,-  tenderly  : 

"  My  little  fellow,  you  can  do  no  more  for  him.     He  is  dead !" 
.  "Dead!"   said   the   little   drummer,    as   tears   rolled    down   his   cheeks. 
" Dead!!    Will  he  never  wake  again?" 

"No,  my  child,"  replied  Landon,  almost  brokenly.  Then  the  little  fellow 
released  himself  from  the  young  officer's  grasp,  and  kneeling  down  by  the 
dead  boy,  kissed  him,  as  he  said  in  his  cliildish  simplicity  and  faith :  "Good- 
bye !  God  will  take  care  of  you  now  !"  Then  General  Landon  bore  him 
away  from  the  sorrowful  scene. 

The  next  day  they  rolled  the  little  form  in  a  blanket  and  buried  it  beneath 
a  willow,  with  a  cross  above  the  grave,  on  which  was  carved  the  single 
word:  "Harry." 

On  the  morrow  came  the  parting  between  the  men  of  the  former  contend- 
ing armies,  and  it  was  almost  with  a  fraternal  friendship  that  they  bade  each 
other  faieweli,  for  whoever  began  the  war,  and  whatever  their  past  differ- 
ences might  have  been,  they  had  fought  the  great  battles  together,  and  now 
they  were  fellow  soldie7\'<  together  at  last ! 

Singly,  in  groups,  on  horseback  and  on  foot,  the  Confederates  left  for  their 
far-away  homes,  and  the  great  Federal  army  was  left  supreme  and  alone. 
Then  the  Army  of  the  Potomac  faces  northward,  and  receives  its  last  orders 
before  it  begins  its  homeward  march.  As  one  of  the  adjutant-generals' 
assistants  reads  them  he  finishes  with  t,he  following  words : 

"  You  will  no  longer  be  required  to  use  the  small  tents,  commonly  called 
dog-tents  (tents  used  in  rapid  marching)  but  you  will  be  furnished  with 
larger  and  better  tents." 

"Ah!  that  means,"  said  Colonel  Gleaton,  pointing  to  the  dog-tents  with 
his  sword,  "that  we're  through  with  them  to  all  uitents  and  purp-jiouses!" 


THROUGH    WAR    TO     PEACE.  77 

There  was  a  burst  of  laughter  from  the  men,  while  the  officers  shouted, 
"Silence  in  the  ranlis,"  though  their  own  faces  were  wreathed  in  smiles. 

Then  the  Federal  army  commenced  its  long  march  homeward.  And  it 
was  dull  and  spiritless  to  those  old  soldiers  to  plod  wearily  along,  without 
skirmishes  ahead,  and  when  they  entered  a  valley  to  And  no  battery  firing 
upon  them  from  the  heights  beyond,  but  to  feel  they  were  a  greatarmy  fully 
equipped  for  war,  but  without  a  foe. 

Thus  separated  the  two  armies  after  four  years  of  strife,  and  the  men  who 
met  as  foes  parted  at  last  as  friends  !  They  had  learned  to  know  each  other 
better,  and  to  love  each  other  more,  though  the  acquaintance  had  begun 
and  ended  on  the  blood-stained  field  of  strife  ! 

And  now  at  last,  through  the  dark,  storm-lit  clouds  of  war,  were  bursting 
the  sweet  beams  of  peace,  like  an  angel  of  mercy  heralding  the  happy  sun- 
shine of  future  years ;  while  from  the  homes  in  every  part  of  the  broad 
Republic  were  going  up  prayers  of  thanks  that  the  scenes  of  blood  and 
death  were  nearly  over ! 


CHAPTER  XV. 

THE  LAST  REVIEW  OF  THE  ARMY  OF  THE  POTOMAO. 


<t  Tr|>RING  out  the  flags  before  us, 

C?     Unfurl  them  one  by  one ; 
Ere  laid  In  solemn  silence, 

Away  from  sight  and  sun, 
With  name  and  date  of  sei-vlce. 

So  men  to  come  may  read 
How  sped  the  loyal  forces, 

When  brave  hearts  took  the  lead.' 


HE  clear,  silvery  sunshine  of  the  23d  of  May,  1865,  was 
sweeping  over  Washington  City,  bathing  the  huge  eapitol 
with  a  crowning  splendor,  from  its  massive  columns  of 
da/zling  whiteness  to  the  very  summit  of  the  immense 
dome,  that  rested  majestically  on  its  massive  stone  base, 
like  some  giant  monarch  on  his  throne. 
It  was  a  day  memorable  for  one  of  the  great  events  in  the  closing  scenes 
of  the  war — the  last  review  and  march  of  the  Army  of  the  Potomac. 

Upon  the  broad  expanse  of  Pennsylvania  Avenue  was  drawn  up  in  line 
the  immense  Army  of  the  Potomac,  numbering  over  85, 000  soldiers.  It  was 
the  greatest  display  of  martial  strength  the  capital  of  the  nation  had  ever 


THROUGH    WAR   TO   PEACE.  79 

yet  witnessed,  but  as  the  morning  sunbeams  flashed  on  tlie  gleaming  arms 
of  the  long  lines  of  men  in  blue,  th^y  fell  for  the  last  time  on  that  proud 
armj',  for  now  its  worli  was  through. 

Early  in  the  day  there  was  a  slight  commotion  among  those  veteran  sol- 
diers, then  the  bugle  sounded  and  the  Army  of  the  Potomac  wheeled  into 
column  of  march,  and  with  General  Mead  riding  proudly  at  its  head,  filed 
in  long  and  stately  array  through  the  streets  of  Washington  City,  from  the 
capitol  past  the  presidential  mansion.  Upon  a  platform  erected  in  front  of 
the  White  House  stood  President  Andrew  Johnson,  and  by  his  side  stood 
General  Grant,  the  commander  of  the  armies  of  the  United  States.  Around 
these  two  central  figures  were  grouped  the  judges  of  the  Supreme  Court, 
and  the  various  officers  of  state. 

Along  the  line  of  march  immense  crowds  gazed  upon  the  war-worn  sol- 
diers from  every  sidewalk,  window,  door-way  and  available  house-top. 
Besides  the  thousands  who  had  congregated  through  curiosity,  were  hundreds 
of  men,  women  and  children  who  had  flocked  to  Washington  City  with  beat- 
ing hearts,  to  welcome  back  from  the  army  brothers,  husbands,  sons  and 
fathers  they  had  not  seen  for  years.  And  as  they  caught  sight — from  the 
wmdows  or  sidewalks — of  the  loved  ones,  the  wild  cries  of  delight  and 
fluttering  of  handkerchiefs  announced  the  fact,  while  the  answering  cheers 
from  the  ranks  told  that  the  joy  was  mutual. 

No  wonder  those  brave  men's  steps  were  light  and  their  hearts  were  gay 
as  they  realized  it  was  their  last  inarch!  What  words  they  were  to  them. 
They  meant  no  more  terrible  marches  under  a  hot  southern  sun,  carrying 
heavy  knapsacks.  They  meant  farewell  to  tent  and  field  and  weary  nights 
of  picket  duty.  They  meant  an  end  to  fields  of  blood  and  death,  with  the 
dangers  of  war  leaving  them  crippled  or  dead.  But,  best  of  all,  they  meant 
a  speedy  reunion  around  the  old  hearthstones  of  home,  amongst  those  they 
loved  so  dearly  and  tenderly. 

Near  the  middle  of  the  long  column  rode  General  Charlie  Landon,  at  the 
head  of  his  division,  and  at  the  rear  of  it  came  the  St.  Arlyle  regiment,  with 
Colonel  Gleaton  riding  proudly  at  its  head.  Gleaton's  explanation  of  the 
regiment  being  in  the  extreme  rear  was  that  it  was  not  because  the  regi- 
ment wae  of  the  least  importance,  but,  like  the  good  things  at  a  banquet, 
the  best  always  came  last. 

As  the  regiment  was  passing  a  street  corner,  a  delegation  from  St.  Arlyle, 
who  had  come  to  welcome  back  their  soldier-boys,  caught  sight  of  them  and 
instantly  broke  into  cheer  after  cheer.  So  wild  was  their  enthusiasm  that 
even  Gleaton  for  several  moments  was  so  overcome  by  the  sight  of  their 
joyous  faces  and  their  wild  huzzas  that  he  could  only  wave  his  hat.  The 
situation  had  become  trying,  when  a  soldier  and  whilom  member  of  the 
Vandal  Club  came  to  the  rescue  by  slightly  changing  the  old  rallying  cry  on 
the  battle  field  of  Gettysburg:  "  We've  come  here  to  stay,"  to  the  words: 
"We're  going  home  to  stay  I"  Instantly  the  cry  rang  along  the  ranks: 
"  We're  going  home  to  stay  !     We're  going  home  to  stay  !" 

By  this  time  Gleaton  had  regained  his  composure,  as  he  remarked : 

"Yes,  Othello's  occupation's  gone.  So  we'll  beat  our  swords  into  plow- 
shares, and  our  spears  into  pruning  hooks,  and  go  home  to  stay  !" 


80  THROUGH   WAR   TO   PEACE. 

At  this  juncture  the  regiineutal  band  struck  up  the  strains  of  "  Pat  Mal- 
loy,"  and  immediately  the  whilom  Vandals  in  the  ranks  began  singing  over 
and  over  again  the  familiar  lines  : 

"  But  now  I'm  going  homo  again,  as  poor  as  I  began, 
To  make  a  happy  girl  of  Moll,  and  sure  I  think  I  can." 

But  instead  of  "Moll"  they  substituted  various  other  girls'  names,  such 
as  Belle,  Nell,  Em,  etc.  Perhaps  these  were  the  names  of  the  sweet- 
hearts they  had  left  behind  them,  but  we  will  not  try  to  pry  into  their  private 
affairs. 

At  the  end  of  the  march  the  Army  of  the  Potomac  was  drawn  up  in  line 
once  more,  and  the  bands  struck  up  their  farewell  strains,  one  near  the  cen- 
ter of  the  line  playing  the  tune  of  "Roslyn  Castle,"  the  old  air  that  had 
disbanded  the  Continental  army  at  Newburgh,  more  than  eighty  years 
before.  And  as  the  final  strains  floated  on  the  air  the  men  broke  ranks  for 
the  last  time,  and  the  great  Army  of  the  Potomac  disappeared  from  view 
forever;  though  its  memory  will  ever  live  in  the  hearts  and  affections  of  the 
country  its  soldiers  fought  so  bravely  to  preserve. 

As  they  heard  the  order  to  break  ranks  for  the  last  time,  and  knew  their 
toils  and  dangers  were  through,  and  felt  that  home  and  friends  were  near, 
it  was  a  wonderful  sight  to  see  how  differently  these  strong  men  expressed 
their  delight.  Thousands  broke  into  wild  cheers,  while  some  were  too  over- 
come with  happiness  to  speak,  and  stood  like  statues,  as  their  eyes  filled 
with  joyous  tears,  as  they  felt  they  were  near  the  realization  of  their  greatest 
hopes  and  dreams  ! 

A  colonel,  when  he  heard  the  order,  sprang  into  the  air,  struck  his  heels 
together,  and  turned  a  complete  somersault.  And  as  he  regained  his  feet 
he  shouted  :  "  Hurrah  for  Peace  !     I  never  loved  you  half  as  well  as  now  !" 

A  large  captain  sprang  forward,  clasped  his  wife — who  had  come  to  meet 
him — in  his  arms,  and  as  he  lifted  her  off  her  feet  and  kissed  her  a  dozen 
times  or  more,  cried :  "  Emily,  you've  either  grown  smaller,  or  else  my 
heart  has  grown  bigger.  I  feel  it's  big  enough  to  envelop  a  Colossus  of 
Rhodes !" 

"But,''  said  Gleaton,  who  was  standing  behind  him,  "a  pyramid,  orper- 
haps  old  snowy-peaked  Mount  Blanc,  might  cool  his  ardor!" 

A  soldier  had  been  standing  calmly  in  the  ranks,  but  when  he  heard  the 
order  to  break  ranks,  his  face  lit  up  with  an  unusual  brightness  as  he  ex- 
claimed, aptly  and  tersely,  even  above  the  tumult: 

"Great  Heavens!  Those  are  the  words  I've  been  listening  for,  for  the 
last  four  years.     They  mean  wife,  home  and  children  !'' 

What  a  worid  of  meaning  there  was  in  that  soldier's  simple  words.  It 
was  the  order  the  whole  army  had  been  hoping  for  after  many  a  long  cam- 
paign, and  after  many  a  desperate  battle.  In  fact,  it  was  the  order  Tor 
which  the  entire  nation  of  heartsickened  people  was  praying  and  longing. 

But  with  the  joys  of  Peace  came  the  sad  farewells  between  comrades  for- 
ever. Comrades  who  for  weary  years  had  shared  their  common  meals 
and  tents  together,  or  marched  side  by  side  through  many  a  long  campaign, 
or  stood  shoulder  to  shoulder  on  many  a  bloody  field,  or  nursed  and  encour- 


THROUGH    WAR    TO    PEACE.  81 

aged  each  other  through  sickness  and  wounds,  till  they  were  endeared  to 
each  other  by  almost  family  ties ! 

Then  also  came  the  soldiers'  last  tender  parting  from  their  commanders, 
the  officers  who  had  led  them  with  noble  example  and  encouragement  while 
sharing  their  common  dangers  and  sufiferings  too.  Between  none  of  the 
officers  and  the  men  was  the  parting  more  tender  and  sincere  than  between 
Charlie  and  the  soldiers  of  his  division.  For  there  was  a  boyish  frankness 
and  generous  good-h<io.rtedness  about  him  that  held  a  peculiar  magnetism 
that  very  rarely  failed  to  win  its  way  to  others'  hearts.  This,  added  to  his 
dashing  gallantry,  his  handsome  face  and  fine  commanding  figure,  and  his 
brilliant  flashes  of  conversation,  showing  his  great  depth  of  learning,  and 
the  easy,  light  and  ingenuous  way  he  had  of  imparling  it,  that  won  the 
attention  and  t.onfldence  of  those  about  him,  and  above  all,  the  sweet,  tender 
expression  that  filled  his  eyes  when  his  sympathies  were  aroused  for  a 
wounded  soldier,  or  their  daring  glitter  when  facing  a  foe,  that  threw  a 
charm  about  him  few  could  resist. 

At  last  the  parting  words  wei'e  said,  and  the  men  scattered  over  the  coun- 
try to  find  rest  in  happy  homes,  surrounded  by  wife  and  children,  or  those 
they  loved  the  best.  And  in  the  joys  of  peace  and  home  old  comrades  were 
forgotten  and  forever  separated,  except  to  meet  by  chance,  now  and  then, 
as  they  talked  over  the  thrilling  scenes  they  had  passed  through  together. 
What  a  world  of  meaning  there  is  in  the  word  home  !  It  means  more  than 
the  house  we  inhabit ;  it  means  those  we  love  the  dearest  and  the  best  I 
And  over  Charlie  Landon  there  came  a  feeling  of  sadness,  as  he  felt  he  had 
no  home  in  the  truest  sense  of  the  word  ;  for  she  he  loved  dearer  than  life 
was  separated  from  him,  perhaps  forever !  So  in  his  grim  despair  he  took 
charge  of  a  geological  expedition,  to  explore  for  six  months  in  South 
America,  in  hopes  that  amid  the  new  life  his  heart  would  lose  some  of  the 
weary  pain  that  was  ever  gnawing  at  it,  for  he  felt  he  never  could  forget  or 
control  his  love  for  her. 

The  next  day  after  the  review  of  the  Army  of  the  Potomac,  General  Sher- 
man rode  proudly  through  Washington  City  at  the  head  of  150,000  sun- 
burned and  toil-worn  soldiers,  who  had  just  returned  from  that  long, 
remarkable  march  from  Atlanta  to  the  sea.  And  that  day  they  broke  rank.s 
forever,  and  ere  sunset  that  mighty  army  was  only  a  thing  of  the  past. 
And  now  again  the  stars  and  stripes  floated  in  peace  over  the  Kepublic, 
from  its  northern  boundary  to  its  extreme  southern  line.  And  may  Heaven 
speed  the  day  when  time  has  calmed  the  sorrows  and  benumed  the  bitterness 
and  regrets,  and  the  heart  is  touched  and  softened  by  that  tranquil  and 
beautiful  feeling,  the  memory  of  the  dead — those  brave  soldiers  in  blue  and 
gray,  who  fought  for  what  they  deemed  the  right — that  feeling  that  arouses 
the  better  thoughts  of  our  nature  by  the  winning  charm  of  sweet,  pure 
svmpathy,  linked  by  the  silver  chord  of  memory  and  the  golden  chain  of 
love  to  the  everlasting  world  of  peace ;  as  if  our  souls  had  joined  in  mystic 
intercourse  with  the  spirits  of  those  across  the  waves  of  time ! 

Thus  when  the  years  have  fallen,  silent,  calm  and  still — like  the  sunlight 
floods  the  globe — with  an  impartial  touch  on  all,  then  will  the  laurels  of 
victory  have  intertwined  with  the  bliss  of  peace  and  love ! 

6 


CHAPTEE  XVI. 

SAD   AND   SWEET   MEMOiSlTiS. 


jTRIEKDS  my  soul  with  Joy  remembers! 
CS     How  like  quivering  flames  they  start. 
When  I  tan  the  living  embers 
On  the  hearthstone  ot  my  heart. 

— Longfellow. 


LOWLY  the  train  was  moving  out  of  Rome,  on  a  beautiful  after- 
noon in  early  June,  as  Bertha  sat  at  an  open  car  window,  od 
her  way  to  her  native  land.  The  golden  summer  sunlight  was 
floating  over  the  Eternal  City  in  ali  its  splendor,  mingling  with 
the  clear,  balmy  Italian  air,  and  as  the  troin  wound  through 
the  city,  she  caught  last  views  of  the  rare  old  ruins  and  struc- 
tures of  ancient  Rome,  as  they  lay  slumbering  in  the  clear,  warm  air,  while 
there  thronged  before  her  mental  vision,  scenes  from  their  wondrous  history, 
when  Rome  was  the  capital  of  the  world.  There  before  her  view  stood  the 
gigantic  Colosseum,  within  whose  walls  for  ages  were  enacted  brutal 
sports  for  the  amusement  of  the  Roman  populace.  Its  huge  interior,  once 
capable  of  holding  80,000  people,  and  its  massive  walls,  once  towering  high 
into  the  air,  but  now  nearly  half  in  ruins,  yet  amid  the  debris  on  the  floor 
can  still  be  found  the  bronze  ring  to  which  Christian  martyrs  and  other  cap- 


THROUGH    WAR    TO  PEACE.  8S 

lives  were  chained,  while  beneath  the  partly  ruined  spectators'  galleries  are 
still  to  be  seen  the  vast  ranges  of  cells  where  the  wild  beasts — panthers, 
tigers,  leopards  and  lions — were  kept  that  tore  and  mangled  the  human 
captives  in  mortal  combat,  while  the  multitude  looked  on  and  applauded. 

"  But,"' she  thought,  "what  a  change  Christianity  has  produced!  For 
there,  where  the  dome  of  St.  Peter's  Cathedral  looms  high  in  the  sky,  were 
the  gardens  of  Nero — the  most  cruel  of  all  the  Roman  tyrants.  It  was  there, 
during  his  reign,  that  the  silent  obelisks  in  the  square  before  the  cathedral 
wituesr-ed  the  awful  sights  of  human  suffering.  For  it  was  there,  on  sum- 
mer nights,  that  gay  crowds — with  the  cruel  Emperor  among  them — gath- 
ered to  watch  the  ghastly  human  torches  blacken  the  ground  with  pitch, 
while  in  each  was  a  Christian  martyr  in  his  mantle  of  Ore !  And  in  the 
Colosseum  near  by,  immense  crowds  were  watching  the  purest  of  Christian 
men  and  women  torn  to  pieces  by  wild  beasts.  No  wonder,  then,  this  gay 
capital — bathed  as  it  was  in  human  blood — met  at  last  a  terrible  fate  at  the 
hand  of  the  barbarian  !" 

Out  of  Home  the  train  wound  slowly  northward,  through  the  Cainpagna, 
brilliant  with  the  array  of  scarlet  and  yellow  Ilowers,  toward  Florence,  a 
hundred  and  fifty  miles  distant.  And  as  she  gazed  from  the  car  windows, 
it  was  a  beautiful  and  entraaciag  sight  that  unfolded  before  her  view,  for 
this  was  Tuscany,  the  ancient  Etruria  of  wondrous  history.  8he  catches 
glimpses  of  mountain  heights,  of  cool,  shady  ravines,  then  of  quaint  old 
walled  towns,  slumbering  in  the  dreamy,  balmy  Italian  air.  And  there 
arises  before  her  mind,  as  if  by  magic,  visions  of  that  glorious  past  recorded 
on  the  glowing  pages  of  Arnold,  Gibbon  and  Sesmondi.  And  farther  back 
yet,  her  imagination  wanders,  ere  Rome's  regal  and  imperial  glory  was 
born,  and  while  yet  the  lance  and  shield  of  the  Middle  Ages  had  more  than 
two  thousand  years  to  wait,  when  the  Etruscan  commonwealth  of  twelve 
fair  cities  formed  a  confederacy  that  required  all  the  early  strength  of  Rome 
to  subdue.  And  as  the  train  whirls  along,  there  passes  like  a  panorama 
the  ruins  of  these  cities  of  bygone  glories  and  the  tombs  of  Porsena  and 
Lucomo  and  the  other  heroes  of  that  departed  age,  sleeping  unconscious  of 
the  two  thousand  years  and  more  of  history  that  has  since  elapsed. 

And  again  her  thoughts  sweep  over  those  later  years,  when  Tuscany  was 
bathed  in  blood,  successively  by  the  Roman  rulers,  the  Gothic  conquerors, 
and  the  Prankish  and  the  German  warriors,  but  on  whose  gallant  deeds  the 
curtain  of  the  past  has  fallen  forever.  Thus  under  the  effects  of  the  warm, 
balmy  air,  a  dreamy  languor  had  stolen  over  her,  when  suddenly  she  was 
aroused  from  her  reverie,  just  as  the  train  was  leaving  a  little  sleepy  Italian 
station,  by  a  gentle  tap  on  the  shoulder.  Instantly  her  thoughts,  which 
had  floated  tar  away  into  time  and  space,  were  brought  back  to  the  con- 
sciousness of  the  present. 

Bertha  looked  up,  and  with  a  start  of  surprise  she  saw  Colonel  Edward 
Wilberton  standing  by  her  side.  Over  her  lovely  face  there  came  an  expres- 
sion of  pleasure,  mingled  with  sadness,  as  she  thought,  "now  I  shall  hear 
of  poor,  dear  May's  death,  and" — with  a  slight  blush — "of  Charlie  Landon 
too." 

After  they  had  exchanged  a  few  words  of  greeting,  he  seated  himself  by 


S^  T HBO  UGH    W'JE    TO    FEACE. 

her  side  in  silence.  For  over  the  minds  of  each,  rolled  a  flood  of  memorios 
of  those  stirring  bygone  years — sad  and  tender  thoughts,  that  seemgd  al- 
most too  deep  for  words. 

At  last,  Bertha,  with  a  woman's  gentleness  and  tact,  broke  the  silence 
with  a  commonplace  question  and  quickly  and  skillfully  led  to  the  subji'cts 
nearest  hex  heart. 

"  How  long  have  you  been  in  Italy?"  she  asked. 

"About  two  months,"  he  replied.     "Are  you  gomg  to  Florence?" 

"Yes,"  she  answered,  "on  my  way  home  to  America.  For  I  shall  ever 
consider  it  home,  for  around  it  cling  the  dearest  and  sweetest  memories 
of  all !" 

"It  will  also,"  he  said,  "be  home  to  me,  though  I  fought  against  its  flag. 
But  it  cost  me  dearly ;  all  that  I  loved  tenderest  in  this  world.  And  my 
severe  chastening,  I  think,  has  gone  far  toward  atoning  for  my  willfulness. 
And  though  my  heart  at  tirst  was  tilled  with  a  bitter  desire  for  revenge,  time 
has  calmed  and  mollifled  it,  and  my  wishes  now  are  for  the  welfare  of  the 
whole  country.  For  I  feel  it  holds  the  grave  of  her  I  loved  better  than  all 
the  world  beside.     My  noble,  true-hearted  May." 

"Sweet,  gentle  May !"  exclaimed  Bertha,  as  her  dark  eyes  grew  moist. 
It  seems  so  cruel  that  war's  rude  hand  should  have  claimed  her  as  one  of 
its  victims.  She,  whose  every  thought  was  one  of  love  for  others,  and 
whose  every  deed  seemed  an  act  of  kindness  for  those  around  her.  But  I'm 
sure  her  faith,  like  her  life,  was  perfect  to  the  last !" 

"Indeed  it  was.  And  her  last  wishes,  like  the  acts  and  thoughts  of  her 
life,  were  for  the  welfare  of  those  she  loved.  For  even  the  approach  of 
Death's  cold,  icy  hand  could  not  still  her  loving  heart,  till  it  had  ceased  to 
beat !" 

"She  was  mortally  wounded  at  Gettysburg?"  said  Bertha,  as  her  beauti- 
ful dark  eyes  grew  wet  with  tears. 

"Yes,"  he  replied,  as  over  his  face  came  an  almost  womanly  tenderness, 
mingled  with  sadness.  He  then  gave  a  graphic  description  of  May's  tragic 
death.  I 

"But,"  he  continued,  "before  her  noble, .loving  heart  was  stilled  forever 
she  said  : 

"  'Tell  Bertha,  when  you  see  her,  that  my  last  moments  w'ere  calm  and 
happy.  And  tell  her  to  crush  her  pride,  and  be  true  to  her  own  heart  and 
Heaven   will  bless  her.'  " 

"God  bless  her,"  said  Bertha,  "if  He  can,  more  than  He  already  does  in 
her  happy  home  in  Heaven,"  she  continued,  as  the  tears  filled  her  dark  eyes 
and  fell  upon  the  fragrant  blossoms  on  her  bosom,  while  there  came  a  won- 
derful tenderness  over  her  lovely  face. 

"  May  grew  rapidly  weaker,"  Wilberton  continued,  "as  she  said  with  a 
strong  effort :  'Good-bye,  Ned  !  Don't  cry  !  We've  had  a  happy  life  together. 
It  seems  hard  to  go,  yet  God's  will  be  done.  But  I  shall  meet  you  on  the 
shining  shore  of  Peace  !' 

"  Then  her  arm  tightened  convulsively  and  passionately  around  my  neck, 
and  her  sweet  blue  eyes  sought  mine  with  a  last,  wild,  loving  glance  !  Then 
the  little  hand  relaxed  its  hold  on  my  neck,  and  the  eyelids  drooped  heavily 


THROUGH    W\^R   TO  PEACE.  85 

forever  over  the  sweet  blue  eyes !      I  bent  my  head  quickly  and  kissed  her 
li])s,  as  with  her  parting  breath  'the  light  of  immortal  beauty  silently  cov- 
ered her  face.'     Then  as  my  head  sank  upon  her  breast,  I  heard  the  last  beat  ^ 
of  her  heart,  and  I  knew  the  rosy  lips  would  never  smile  upon  me  again, 
and  that  the  sweet  blue  eyes  would  never  greet  me  more! 

•'  Like  one  in  some  horrible  dream,  I  saw  the  last  rays  of  twilight  sol- 
emnly fade,  and  darkness  shroud  the  Pennsylvania  hills ;  and  sad  and 
gloomy  it  fell  upon  me !  In  that  long,  sorrowful  night  that  closed  around 
me,  there  sprang  forth  grim  spectres  of  sweet  memories,  hopes  and  loves, 
that  haunted  me  but  to  remind  me  that  they  were  dead,  till  there  came  upon 
me  a  feeling  of  desolation,  like  one  lost  forever  in  a  dark  wilderness ;  as  I 
realized  that  my  brightest  hopes,  dreams  and  wishes  were  shattered  forever! 
And  in  that  awful  night  there  sprang  out  of  the  darkness  many  vivid  scenes 
of  suffering  and  agony,  till  I  felt  like  the  lost  soul  in  the  old  Greek  myth- 
ology, as  it  IS  borne  by  the  ghastly  ferryman,  Charon,  across  the  Stygian 
River ! 

"  There,  long  after  midnight,  they  found  me,  still  clasping  her  inanimate 
form  !  They  bore  her  form  into  camp,  and  I  followed,  like  one  in  some  hor- 
rible dream.  I  had  all  that  was  mortal  of  her  buried  in  St.  Arlyle.  Then 
I  joined  my  regiment  again,  with  a  heart  maddened  with  anger,  and  with  a 
thirst  for  revenge  jto  ivords  can  express!  And  I  resolved  to  tight  the  war 
out  to  the  bitter  end!  Though  I  scarcely  cared  to  know — so  deep  was  my 
desire  for  vengeance — what  that  end  would  be  !" 

"The  battle  of  Gettysburg,"  continued  Wilberton,  "was  the  turning  point 
of  the  war,  but  we  fought  on  as  desperately  as  ever.  After  that  battle,  we 
had  one  more  chance  for  victory,  on  the  terrible  battle  field  of  the  Wilder- 
ness. But  we  failed,  and  after  that  we  saw  the  star  of  Confederacy  grad- 
ually but  surelj'  sinking,  until  it  disappeared  forever  on  an  April  day,  on  the 
field  at  Appomattox,  nearly  a  year  later  ! 

"  During  the  last  battles  around  Eichmond  we  were  reduced  to  but  eight 
thousand  men,  while  the  great  Federal  armj-  numbered  nearly  two  hundred 
thousand,  but  we  struggled  on  with  a  bravery  that  surprised  the  enemj-,  and 
with  a  success  at  resistance  that  even  astonished  us.  But  what  the  result 
would  be  of  that  last  protracted  struggle,  was  as  evident  to  the  commonest 
soldier  as  it  was  to  the  commander  himself — it  meant  annUdlation  or  sur- 
render!  But  those  few  men  of  that  once  great  army  of  Northern  Virginia 
were  fighting  with  a  des|ieration  akin  to  death,  for  most  of  them  had  lost 
their  all — and  in  the  grimness  of  despair  they  little  cared  what  the  end 
would  be !  The  end  came  on  an  April  day,  when  we  stacked  our  arms  for- 
ever, and  laid  our  colors  in  the  dust  1  But  the  end  was  a  surprise  to  us,  for 
we  found  the  Federal  soldiers  wonderfully  kind  and  tender.  They  gave  more 
than  a  generous  half  of  their  food  to  our  starving  men,  and  they  endeav- 
ored in  every  way  not  to  hurt  our  feelings,  or  to  make  us  feel  like  a  humili- 
ated foe.  For,  said  they,  have  we  not  fought  the  great  battles  together, 
and  are  we  not  fellow  soldiers  at  last?  And  in  those  few  days  we  learned 
to  know  and  like  them  better  than  we  ever  had  before !" 

"  I  was  standing,"  continued  Wilberton,  "on  the  field  of  surrender,  when 
Charlie  Landon  came  to  me  with  his  old  winning,  boyish  frankness,  and  as 


86  THROUGH    WAR   TO  PEACE. 

he  grasped  my  hand,  he  said  with  a  kind  expression  on  his  handsome  face 
and  a  tenderness  in  his  voice  that  won  my  heart: 

"  '  This  is  a  sad  ending,  my  dear  fellow  !  And  I  am  sincerely  sorry  for  you, 
but  it  is  perhaps  for  the  best?'  " 

"He  IS,"  continued  Wilberton,  "a  noble  fellow;  generous,  true  and  kind; 
incapable  of  a  mean  action  or  word ;  for  he  has  a  heart  as  far  above  mean- 
ness and  envy  as  the  heavens  are  above  the  earth.  He  is  the  most  brilliant 
scholar  I  ever  knew,  for  so  young  a  man.  He  is  a  noble,  generous  soldier, 
and  as  brave  as  a  lion  !  In  fact,  he  has  just  the  qualities  of  a  hero.  For  I 
have  met  him  as  a  foe,  and  tried  him  as  a  friend,  and  he  realizes  in  all  its 
fullness  the  poet's  line  of  'Truest  friend  and  noblest  foe.'  " 

Bertha  looked  up,  as  a  blush  mantled  her  beautiful  face,  and  the  love- 
light  sparkled  in  her  dark,  velvety  orbs,  as  she  said  : 

"You  are  very  generous  in  the  praise  of  j-our  friends." 

"  Not  always,"  he  said.  "  But  in  my  admiration  of  Charlie  Landon  I  am 
only  just,  for  he  deserves  it  all,  and  more." 

After  a  moment's  silence,  Wilberton  continued  :  "So  Charlie  Landon  and 
I  parted,  but  I  hope  ere  long  to  meet  him  again,  in  a  united  country.  For 
one  ©f  my  greatest  wishes  now,  is  to  see  my  country  united  in  hearts  as  well 
as  bonds.  One  of  the  great  philosophers,  and  wise  men  of  Greece  was  once 
asked  :  'What  is  the  most  grateful  of  all  things?'  and  he  answered,  '  Timt'.' 
His  answer  was  a  very  true  one  ;  for  time  is  a  great  softener  of  asperities,  as 
well  as  a  corrector  of  judgments.  For  though,  even  now,  when  I  catch 
sight  of  the  stars  and  bars,  there  arises  a  tender,  true  memory  of  the 
stormy  days  when  I  rallied  under  its  folds,  still  when  I  see  the  stars  and 
stripes,  there  arises  the  love  of  my  boj'hood  and  early  manhood,  and  older 
and  dearer  love  even  still !" 

"And,"  said  Bertha,  archly,  "  old  loves  are  always  the  strongest  and  the 
best!" 

'.'True,"  he  replied,  smiling.  "I  have  found  it  so,  for  there  were  mom- 
ents in  the  early  days  of  the  Civil  War  when,  as  I  looked  across  the  battle 
line  and  saw  the  old  flag  floating  there,  I  almost  felt  as  Homer  depicts  the 
feelings  of  Helen,  while  she  gazed  from  the  ramparts  of  Troy,  as  with  'for- 
mer fires' 

"  'Her  country,  parents,  all  that  once  were  dear. 
Bush  to  her  thoughts,  and  force  a  tender  tear.' 

"For  it  was  the  flag  of  my  boyhood,  of  my  early  manhood,  too,  and  the 
tenderest  impulses  of  my  heart  still  clung  to  the  dear  old  flag,  for  under 
its  folds  the  sweetest  years  of  my  life  had  been  passed,  when  '  Hope  was 
life's  sweet  sovereign,  and  the  heart  and  step  were  light.'  " 

At  last  the  fair  city  of  Florence  dawns  in  view,  that  Tuscan  lily,  which 
Italy  wears  like  a  blossom  upon  her  breast.  And  in  that  lovely  June  after- 
noon, the  beautiful  city  lay  shining  in  the  sunlight  like  a  gem  in  a  beautiful 
Betting  of  green.  They  catch  sight  of  the  many  gilded  palaces,  and  watch 
the  sunlight  glitter  on  the  immense  dome  of  the  Duomo,  and  flash  in  fiery 
corruscations  from  the  hundreds  of  spires  of  that  wonderful  city.  And 
while  they  yet  gaze  in  admiration,  the  Angelus  bells,  of  the  world-famed 
Cathedral  of  Campanile,  peal  forth  their  sweet  melody  on  the  peifumed  air 


THROUGH    JVAB   TO  PEACE.  87 

— arising  from  the  array  of  flowers  of  every  hue — sending  forth,  as  it  were, 
a  double  welcome  to  the  fair,  ancient  city. 

"This  is  my  station,"  said  Colonel  Wilberton,  arising  as  the  train  ap- 
proached a  small  station.     "Do  you  intend  to  tarry  in  P^lorence?" 

"No,  I  am  going  home  to  the  United  States,"  she  replied,  smiling,  ^'for 
des^jAte  the  siinmj  skies  of  Italy,  my  heart  is  roving  there!  For  I  never 
loved  my  country  better  than  I  do  now.  And,"  she  added,  as  a  warm  tint 
mantled  her  lovely  face,  and  a  beautiful  light  filled  her  dark,  lustrous  eyes, 
"one  of  the  greatest  wishes  of  my  heart  is  to  see  the  men  who  wor(3  the 
blue  and  gray,  mingled  in  as  perfect  fellowship  as  the  gray  dawn  of  a  sum- 
mer morning  is  mingled  with  the  perfect  blue  of  a  summer  day." 

"And  I  think  the  omens  are  propitious  toward  realizing  your  wish,"  he 
replied,  with  a  smile.  "For  a  short  time  before  I  left  America,  I  went  over 
the  old  battle  fields,  and  I  found,  just  as  the  North  and  South  were  forgiv- 
ing and  forgetting,  so  nature,  too,  was  hiding  the  old  scars  of  enmity,  and 
the  lilies  of  love  and  peace  were  springing  where  the  laurels  used  to  growl 
For  on  the  field  of  Gettysburg,  the  Federal  and  Conf^.derate  monuments  of 
valor  are  standing  almost  side  by  sidel" 


CHAPTER   XVII. 

THE   VANDAIi    CONGKESS   ONCE   AGAIN. 

C^  SEE  a  chief  who  leada  my  chosen  sons, 

&    All  armed  with  points,  antitheses  and  puns. 


—Pope. 


iFTER  the  close  of  the  Civil  War,  and  the  return  of  the  absent 
Vandals  to  St.  Arlyle,  the  Vandal  Club,  or  Congress,  (as 
they  themselves  called  it)  was  reorganized  and  placed  in 
a  more  flourishing  condition.  Although  during  the  War  its 
organization  had  been  continued,  the  Club  had  gradually  lost 
one  member  after  another,  until  the  interest  in  it  had  sunk 
to  a  very  low  ebb.  But  with  the  return  of  the  old  members  and  the  addi- 
tion of  new  ones,  there  came  a  new  era  in  its  prosperity,  until,  to  use  the 
words  of  Gleaton,  "it  transcended  its  pristine  glory." 

An  adjunct  that  had  materially  assiste^l  in  increasing  its  membership  was 
the  rapid  growth  of  the  village,  since  it  had  become  a  popular  bathing  re- 
sort. The  Club  had  so  far  progr.-ssed  toward  placing  its  organization  on  a 
permanent  basis  as  to  be  able  to  build  a  club  house  on  the  lot  which  they 
had  purchased.  The  source  from  which  the  Vandals  had  obtained  their 
funds  was  at  tirst  somewhat  enveloped  in  mystery,  but  it  gradually  became 
known  that  several  prominent  persons  had  assisted  them.  Among  the  num- 
ber was  Eichard  Lex,  who  had  been  elected  a  county  judge,  for  he  had 
become  a  sober  and  useful  citizen.  Colonel  Tom  Gleaton  had  also  sent 
them  a  present  of  fifty  dollars.  Charles  Landon  had,  to  use  their  own 
words,  "kindly  interested  himself  in  their  affairs,  and  materially  assisted 
them  with  pecuniary  emoluments."  And  last  to  be  mentioned,  but  not  least 
in  giving,  was  Miss  Bertha  Merton,  who  had  not  forgotten  how  intimately 
they  were  intertwined  with  those  troublous  days  of  the  past,  and  how  nobly 
and  manfully  they  had  come  to  her  assistance.  Her  gifts  consisted  of 
money  and  books,  both  of  which  they  received  with  many  thanks,  expressed 
by  means  of  the  most  grandiloquent  letters  the  Club  could  compose,  which 
when  she  read  she  would  remark  with  a  smile  that  "they  are  good  fellows 
and  deserving  of  encouragement,  though  somewhat  addicted  to  compli- 
ments and  high  flown  language." 

As  we  have  remarked,  one  6f  Miss  Merton's  gifts  consisted  of  books,  and 
this  formed  the  nucleus  of  their  constantly  increasing  library.  Their  library 
was  a  heterogeneous  collection  of  works  on  law,  science,  literature  and  phil- 
osophy.      Pre-eminent  among  their  books  were  several  full  sets  of  encyclo- 


THROUGH    WAR    TO  PEACE.  89 

pedias  and  three  large  dictionaries.  Tiiese  latter  volumes,  they  claimed, 
were  very  essential  to  the  Congress'  progress,  as  we  shall  also  see  if  we 
attend  a  session  of  the  Club. 

It  was  Saturday  night,  and  the  Vandal  Congress  was  in  full  session. 
There  are  many  changes  in  their  ranks  since  last  we  chronicled  their  pro- 
ceedings, but  still  we  recognize  many  familiar  faces — grown  older,  it  is  true 
— but  still  with  the  same  felicitous,  jolly  expression  on  them  as  of  yore. 

It  was  a  large  room,  and  extending  entirely  across  the  floor,  were  rows  of 
chairs,  in  which  the  members  ensconced  themselves  during  a  session.  Fac- 
ing the  chair,  and  against  the  wall,  was  a  raised  platform,  covered  by  a 
crimson  plush  canopy,  and  on  this  dais  was  a  large  arm  chair,  which  was 
occupied  by  the  President  during  their  deliberations.  Directly  in  front  of 
this  platform  were  two  desks,  where. the  two  secretaries  sat  who  recorded 
the  proceedings  of  the  Congress.  On  one  side  of  the  room  was  a  huge  desk, 
piled  with  books  and  papers,  at  which  the  reference  clerk  sat,  whose  duties 
we  shall  learn  of  by  and  by.  The  walls,  where  not  occupied  by  book  cases, 
were  covered  with  pictures,  maps  and  charts.  In  one  corner  of  the  room 
stood  a  glass  case,  filled  with  minerals,  swords,  belts,  guns,  balls,  and  various 
other  souvenirs  of  the  War.  In  another  corner  stood  a  large  brass-knobbed 
wooden  safe,  painted  green,  on  which  was  delineated  in  vivid  colors,  a  huge 
bull  dog — evidently  the  Cerberus  of«the  treasury.  What  the  safe  contained 
was  a  mystery — for  it  was  very  heavy  and  was  never  opened — but  the  trad- 
ition ran  that  it  was  filled  with  bricks. 

The  Club  had  elected  a  new  President,  named  Samuel  Verbum,  who  was 
remarkable  for  two  characteristics,  his  great  and  grandiloquent  command 
of  language  and  his  sempiternal  ability  to  smoke  an  immense  pipe.  He 
seemed  to  be  acquainted  with  all  the  words  in  the  dictionary,  and  to  be  able 
to  use  them  on  any  occasion  with  a  volubility  that  was  wouderful.  liut  a 
new  or  rare  word  was  his  delight,  and  he  caught  it  in  a  moment  aud  enfolded 
in  his  tenacious  memory  with  a  grip  like  Nessus's  shirt  on  the  body  of 
Hercules. 

During  the  session  of  the  Club  Verbum  smoked  the  huge  pipe,  with  a 
bowl  the  size  of  a  teacup,  into  which  he  would  pour  a  quarter  of  a  pound 
of  tobacco,  and  then,  seating  himself  in  the  President's  chair,  would  puff 
forth  immense  volumes  of  smoke,  like  a  human  steam  engine.  It  was  said 
that  he  only  smoked  during  a  meeting  of  the  Club,  but  anyhow  it  was  on 
these  occasions  alone  he  smoked  the  immense  pipe.  Several  Vandals,  in 
Sam's  absence,  had  surreptitiously  obtained  the  meerschaum,  and  after  filling 
it  with  tobacco,  had  endeavored  to  smoke  it,  but  after  nearly  killing  them- 
selves, had  yielded  to  him  the  palm  as  a  smoker,  just  as  they  had  long  since 
admitted  him  to  be  the  chief  in  the  use  of  rare  words  and  grandiloquent 
language. 

Samuel  Verbum  was  reporter  on  the  village  paper.  He  was  of  medium 
height,  about  twenty-two  or  three  years  of  age,  with  a  full,  good-natured 
face,  brown  eyes,  dark,  wavy  hair,  a  black,  curling  moustache,  and — in  oppo- 
sition to  the  prevalent  idea  of  a  hard  student — a  full,  rounded  figure,  for, 
notwithstanding  Sam's  hard  study  in  devouring  an  English  unabridged  dic- 
tionary and  most  of  a  standard  encyclopedia,  he  had  literally  grown  fleshy 


90  THROUGH    WAR    TO    RE  ACE. 

during  his  great  feast  of  words.  T'lose  members  of  the  Vandal  Club  who 
had  entered  the  army,  had  found  Sam  in  another  regiment  in  their  brigade, 
or  perhaps  he  had  discovered  them,  or,  rather,  the  discovery  was  mutual, 
for  he  had  affiliated  with  them  as  instinctively  as  a  duck  takes  to  water. 
He  had  obtained  his  transfer  from  his  regiment  to  their  company,  and  at  the 
close  of  the  war  he  had  drifted  back  with  them  to  St.  Arlyle. 

As  we  have  remarked,  it  was  Saturday  night,  and  the  Congress  was  in  full 
session.  It  was  a  grand  occasion,  being  their  .first  gala  meeting  since  the 
War,  and  there  were  present  by  invitation  a  number  of  ex- Vandals,  among 
others  Colonel  Tom  Gleaton.  These  invited  guests  were  to  make  a  few 
remarks,  to  give  "eclat,"  as  tlie  Vandals  expressed  it,  to  the  occasion. 
After  Samuel  Verbura  had  taken  the  chair  and  sent  forth  a  few  huge  puffs 
of  smoke  from  his  immense  meerschaum,  he  called  the  meeting  to  order 
and  requested  the  clerk  to  call  the  roll  and  read  the  minutes  of  the  last 
session,  after  which  he  announced  : 

"  We  will  now  proceed  to  the  profliient  order  of  business,  and  the  secre- 
tarj'  will  peruse  the  communication  addressed  to  the  Vandal  Congress." 

The  secretary  then  read  a  brief  communication  from  Miss  Merton,  tender- 
ing a  gift  of  a  hundred  dollars  to  the  Vandal  Club. 

"It  should  be  addressed  to  the  Vandal  fJ'0Nr//'('.s'.s,"  said  Verbum.  "What 
is  the  sense  of  the  assembly?" 

"Suspend  the  rules  and  accept  the  donation,"  moved  a  member. 

"But  that  will  not  assist  us,"  said  Verbum.  "  It  is  not  according  to  par- 
liamentary usages." 

"Suspend  the  name,  and  take  in  the  appropriation,"  shouted  a  Vandal. 

And  the  name  was  according  suspended,  and  the  appropriation  taken  in. 

A  resolution  of  thanks  to  Miss  Merton  was  then  offered  and  unanimously 
adopted,  alter  it  had  undergone  numerous  emendations  and  additions,  until 
it  was  invested  with  the  most  grandiloquent  language  possible. 

"She  is,"  said  Veibum,  referring  to  Miss  Merton,  "a  noble  little  lady,  and 
in  the  words  of  the  Koman  proverb,  Autor  pretiosa  facit — the  giver  makes 
the  gift  more  precious." 

"  Yes,"  said  Ed  Thorne,  the  reference  clerk,  "she  is  an  example  of  the 
Latin  apothegm,  Gratior  ac  pulchro  veniena  in  corpore  virtus,  which  we 
may  freely  translate:  Beauty  lends  grace  even  to  intrinsic  worth." 

"She  fulfills,"  said  Joe  Percival,  the  philosopher  of  the  Club,  "the ancient 
sage's  delinition  that  'Beauty  is  a  sovereignty  that  stands  in  nee<l  of  no 
guards.'  " 

"And  also,"  said  Will  Anderson,  "Aristotle's  definition  of  beauty:  'The 
gift  of  a  fair  appearance.'  " 

"  To  see  her,"  said  Joe  Pei'cival,  "and  to  wonder  why  all  praise  her,  is  to 
exclaim  with  Aristotle,  when  some  one  asked  him  'why  all  people  admire 
beauty.'     'Why,'  he  exclaimed,  'it  is  the  question  of  a  blind  man  !'  ' 

"Or,"  said  a  member  near  the  door,  "to  use  the  words  of  Plato,  'Beauty 
is  the  privilege  of  nature,'  and  in  the  words  of  Theocritus,  'An  ivory  mis- 
chief,' and  in  those  of  Socrates,  'A  short  lived  tyranny.'  " 

There  was  instantly  cries  of  dissension  and  hisses,  while  over  Verbum's 
face  came  an  expression  of  surprise  and  anger,  as  he  exclamied  :  "Sergeant- 


THROUGH    WAR   TO   PEACE.  91 

at-arms,  carefully  eliminate  that  member  from  the  assembly !" 

The  sergeant-at-arms  seized  his  huge  stuffed  club,  nearly  as  large  as  him- 
self, and  instantly  made  a  charge  on  the  obnoxious  member,  who  was  en- 
deavoring to  escape,  but  the  club  came  in  contact  with  his  posterior  and 
elevated  him  about  ten  feet  into  the  street.  As  the  officer  of  order  closed 
the  door  he  exclaimed : 

"In  the  words  of  the  Bard  of  Avon,  '  How  are  we  tossed  on  fortune's 
fickle  flood !' " 

"  Nothing  in  this  world,"  said  President  Verbum,  as  he  rapped  for  order, 
"excels  a  fool  with  too  long  a  tongue ! 

"  'Nothing  exceeds  in  ridicule  no  doubt, 
A  fool  in  fashion,  but  a  fool  thafs  out,^ " 

"No  one,"  said  Will  Johnson,  "but  an  idiot  would  make  such  frivolous 
remarks  about  a  young  lady  who  has  been  such  a  true  friend  to  the  members 
of  this  body.  She  is  a  noble  little  lady.  I  saw  her  the  other  day,  and  she 
looked  irresistibly  and  bewitchingly  beautiful,  without  a  thought  of  the  en- 
trancing thrill  she  sent  darting  through  many  a  fellow's  heart !" 

As  the  last  speaker  finished,  Verbum  gave  a  long  puff  on  his  large  pipe, 
then  laid  it  aside  for  a  crowning  effort,  as  he  began  : 

"She's  a  dainty,  bewitching  little  lady;  she's  a  charming,  bonny  girl; 
she's  a  sweet,  darling  little  maid ;  she's  as  beautiful  as  a  Hebe,  as  lovely  as 
a  Venus,  as  graceful  as  a  Peri,  as  fair  as  a  lily,  and  as  dazzling  as  a  goddess ! 
She's  truly  gorgeous,  superb,  magnificent,  sublime,  grand  !  In  a  sentence, 
she  realizes  the  artist's  fancy,  and  the  poet's  dream,  when  he  wrote : 

" '  When  life  looks  lone  and  dreary, 

What  light  can  expel  the  gloom? 
When  Time's  swift  wing  grows  weary. 

What  charm  can  refresh  his  plume? 
'Tis  woman,  whose  sweetness  beameth  . 

O  erall  that  we  feel  and  see, 
And  it  man  ot  heaven  e'er  dreameth, 

'Tis  when  he  thinks  purely  of  thee.'  " 

When  Verbum  ceased  speaking  there  was  a  silence  for  several  moments, 
broken  at  last  by  the  President  asking:  "Has  anyone  anything  moie  to 
add?" 

"  I  think  not,"  said  Thorne,  as  he  gazed  In  despair  at  the  ponderous  vol- 
umes before  him.  "I  guess  you've  nearly  tested  the  power  of  the  English 
language." 

"Are  there  any  other  communications?"  asked  Verbum. 

"Yes,"  replied  the  clerk,  reading  one  from  the  trustees  of  the  town  li- 
brary, asking  for  a  donation  of  books. 

"It  seems  to  me,"  said  Verbum,  "that  charity  should  inaugurate  proceed- 
ings on  its  own  native  heath.  But  I  merely  throw  this  out  as  a  supererog- 
atory, metaphysical  suggestion.     What  are  the  wishes  of  the  assembly?" 

"  I  move,"  said  a  member,  "that  the  communication  lie  on  the  table." 
And  it  was  accordingly  tabled. 

"There  being  no  other  messages  before  the  house,"  said  the  President, 
"we  will  now  take  cognizance  of  the  protocol  of  the  chairman  of  the  com- 
mittee on  'News  About  Town.' " 


92  THROUGH    WAR   TO  PEACE. 

"In  our  last  report,"  began  Will  Stoakes,  "wo  gave  an  account  of  an  at- 
tempt by  some  of  the  musically  inclined  boj's  to  whip  the  clergyman,  and 
also  the  outcome.  But  we  were  unable  at  that  time  to  state  the  cause  of 
the  belligerent  attitude  of  the  parties.  It  seems,  a  short  time  ago  the  St. 
Arlyle  amateur  brass  band  attended  the  funeral  of  one  of  the  firemen,  and 
when  they  had  squelched  out,  at  the  side  of  the  grave,  what  they  called 
'  The  Sweet  By  and  By'  in  a  tune  that  resembled  a  cross  between  the  liowl 
of  a  hyena  and  the  whine  of  a  dying  pup  (in  fact  it  was  such  a  dismal  dis- 
cord that  several  persons  in  the  rear  looked  over  the  others'  shoulders  to 
see  what  kind  of  an  animal  they  were  torturing)  the  minister  in  his  address 
said  that  'the  deceased  was,  in  one  respect,  fortunate  in  being  thus  called 
early.'  That  was  all  he  remarked,  but  a  great  many  people  grinned,  and 
the  amateur  'wind-jammers'  said  that  his  infernal  sarcasm  was  entirely  out 
of  place  at  a  funeral." 

"Perhaps,''  said  Ed  Thorne,  "the  minister  merely  threw  it  out  as  a  sup- 
ererogatory, metaphysical  suggestion." 

"Maybe  he  did,"  replied  Stoakes,  "but  the  'wind-jammers'  felt  exceed- 
ingly warlike  about  it,  and  called  upon  the  minister,  with  the  results  we  have 
already  related." 

"  Tiiere  arrived  in  town,  about  three  months  ago,"  continued  Stoakes,  "a 
verdant  appearing  fellow,  who  looked  as  if  he  had  been  browsing  among 
the  chaparral  on  some  mountain  side.  A  few  days  since,  he  requested  to  be 
admitted  into  the  Vandal  Congress.  So  we  told  him  that  we  would  initiate 
him,  and  accordingly  we  took  him  up  into  Kirkman's  warehouse.  We  told 
him  there  were  four  degrees,  the  highest  of  which  was  the  EoyalSkyfogle de- 
gree, which  was  very  difficult  to  take,  and  that  few  people  were  able  to  take 
it.  His  answer  was  :  '  Bring  along  your  degrees;  1 11  take  'em!'  After  we 
had  read  to  him  the  printed  ritual  of  the  Free  Masons,  Odd  Fellows,  and 
other  secret  societies,  we  blind-folded  him,  and  leading  him  into  a  closet  we 
let  the  old  skeleton  drop  on  him.  He  gave  a  howl  like  a  scared  wolf,  and 
it  was  all  we  could  do  to  hoid  him.  Then  we  took  him  out  of  the  closet 
and  blind-folded  him  again,  and  from  our  past  experience  we  thought  it 
best  to  tie  his  hands  behind  his  back.  Then  we  drew  him  over  a  table,  and 
while  two  of  us  held  him  by  the  ears  the  other  one  paddled  him  with  a 
board.  He  laid  it  on  well,  and  the  victim  howled  to  a  lively  tune.  Then 
we  let  him  wander  around  the  warehouse,  and  fall  over  a  dozen  boxes  and 
barrels,  till  he  had  skinned  his  shins  and  his  nose.  Then  we  caught  him, 
and  laying  him  on  a  table,  held  him  by  the  ears  while  we  gave  him  some 
more  paddling,  after  which  we  dipped  his  head  in  a  bucket  of  water,  then 
in  a  box  of  Hour,  and  finally  iu  a  box  of  powdered  charcoal,  when  he  looked 
like  a  cross  between  an  African  and  an  albino.  Then  we  untied  his  hands 
and  took  the  bandage  from  his  eyes,  and  the  first  question  he  asked  was : 

"  'Am  I  a  Vandal  now?'     We  told  him  'yes.' 

"  'And  have  I  taken  the  Royal  Skyfogle  degree?'  We  told  him  he  had 
taken  the  Koyal  Skyfogle  degree. 

"  'Then,  boys,"  said  lie,  '  I'll  initiate  you  in  the  thunder  and  lightning  de- 
gree, and  malce  you  eat  humble  pie !' 

"And  with  that  remark  he  knocked  me  down,  he  hit  Dave  Johnson  iu  the 


THROUGH    W^JR   TO  PEACE.  93 

ftye  and  Ed  Thorne  in  the  jaw.  When  we  all  arose  from  the  floor,  we  closed 
in  with  him.  I  seized  him  by  one  arm,  Dave  got  him  by  the  other,  and 
Thorne  seized  him  by  the  leg.  The  first  thing  he  did,  he  kicked  Dave  in  the 
stomach  and  doubled  him  up  like  a  jack-knife,  he  threw  me  about  ton  feet, 
and  pitched  Ed  head-flrst  into  the  barrel  of  charcoal.  Then  he  seemed  sat- 
isfied, and  we  were  very  glad  of  it,  for  we  like  to  see  a  man  satisfied. 

"  He  proved  a  great  surprise  to  us.  But,  in  the  words  of  the  old  pro- 
verb :  'You  can't  always  tell  by  the  size  of  the  toad  how  far  he  can  jump !' " 

"Yes,"  said  Verbum,  "there  is  a  great  deal  of  truth  in  the  Roman  pro- 
verb, Fronti  nulla  fides — there  is  no  trusting  to  appearances." 

At  this  juncture  one  of  the  Vaudab-.,  who  was  standmg  in  the  doorway 
holding  a  whispered  conversation  with  some  one  outside,  advanced  to  the 
middle  of  the  room  and  raised  his  hand,  to  attract  the  President's  attention. 

"  Mr.  Brown  has  the  floor,"  said  Verbum. 

"There's  a  nigger  out  there,"  said  the  member,  with  a  jerk  of  his  thumb 
over  his  shoulder,  "who  wishes  to  bo  admitted  to  the  floor.  He  says  he 
was  in  the  war." 

"  That  is  not  the  way  to  speak,  sir.     Tou  should  say  'gentleman  of  color.'  " 

"  Yes,  he's  got  the  color,  for  he's  as  black  as  the  ace  of  spades  !'' 

"What  is  the  wish  of  the  assembly?"  asked  Verbum. 

"Admit  him !"  shouted  the  members,  who  had  a  penchant  for  anyone  who 
had  served  in  the  war. 

The  negro  entered,  and  as  he  took  a  seat  and  gazed  at  Verbum  in  wonder, 
he  exclaimed :  "Golly  !  don't  he  smoke  a  big  pipe  !" 

Then  President  Verbum,  without  noticing  his  remark,  began  to  interro- 
gate him  as  follows : 

"  What  is  your  name?" 

"James  Caesar,  sah." 

"Where  were  you  born?" 

"  In  Norf  Carolina,  sah." 

"  How  long  were  you  in  the  war?" 

"Nine  months,  sah." 

"  Where  were  you?     In  what  army,  I  mean." 

"  I  wuz  Sve  months  in  de  hospital,  sah." 

"  Where  were  you  the  other  four  months?" 

"I  wuz — I  wuz  looking  for  de  hospital,  sah." 

"  Sergeant-at-arms !"  shouted  Verbum,  "carefully  eliminate  the  gentle- 
man of  color  from  this  assembly." 

The  sergeant-at-arms  sat  his  huge  stuffed  club  by  the  door,  and  then  went 
for  the  darkey,  and  as  he  caught  him  by  the  ear,  he  said  in  a  stage  whisper: 
"Come  Mr.  Ceesar !  Get!  Skip!  Shake  a  leg!  Make  your  conge  !"  He 
led  the  blackamoor  to  the  door,  and  seizing  his  club,  he  gave  him  a  blow  in 
the  rear  that  hoisted  him  a  dozen  feet  into  the  strtet. 

As  the  colored  gentleman  gathered  himself  out  of  the  dust,  he  exclaimed  : 

"Golly  !  Boss,  dat  wuz  a  terrible  hint!  But  I'll  clean  out  de  whole  insti- 
tutiou  I" 

"  In  the  words  of  Homer,"  said  Verbum,  "  '  Thy  aid  we  need  not,  and  thy 
threats  defy.'  And  I  hope  your  conge  is  a  supererogatory,  metaphysicai 
suggestion  that  no  imposters  can  foist  themselves  upon  this  body." 


w 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

THE  VANDAL  CONGBESS,  CONTINUED. 

fES,  we're  boys— always  playing  with  tongue  or  with  penl 
Aud  I  sometimes  have  asked,  Shall  we  ever  be  men? 
Shall  we  always  be  youthful,  aud  laughing,  and  gay, 

Till  the  last  dear  companion  drops  smiliug  away? 
Then  here's  to  our  boyhood,  its  gold  and  its  grayl 
The  stars  of  its  winter,  the  dews  ol  its  May ! 

—  0.   W.  Holmes. 


HE  report  of  the  Chairman  of   the  Hymeneal  Committee  is 
now  in  order,"  said  Verbum. 

Pete  Hale  began  :  "  Mr.  President:  During  the  past  week 
there  have  been  several  marriages,  or,  to  express  it  more 
poetically,  sevei'al  youths  and  maidens  have  caught  the 
ethereal  fragrance  of  love,  or,  to  use  the  words  of  Homer, 
have  themselves  been  caught  by  the  '  The  old,  yet  still  successful  cheat  of 
love.' 

"  The  first  marriage  of  the  week  we  have  to  chronicle  is  that  of  Sam  Dawn 
to  Mary  Black.  Sam  Dawn  first  fell  in  love  with  Nellie  Edwards,  and  they 
became  engaged,  but  it  was  the  old  story,  the  course  of  true  love  didn't 
run  smooth.  At  first  the  subtle  aroma  of  romance  clung  around  tlieir  bc- 
trothment,  and  in  their  blissful  imaginations  they  seemed  to  live  in  a  delight- 
ful dream.  But  alas  !  the  awakening  came.  They  began  by  a  few  lovers* 
quarrels,  and  ended  by  breaking  the  engagement.  I  am  not  philosopher 
euougli  to  tell  why,  but  it  is  a  fact  that  love  is  nearly  always  associated 
with  misery.  Especially  is  this  true  of  the  younger  loves  —what  are  denom- 
inated first  loves.  The  boy  falls  in  love,  and  there  is  but  one  great  object  in 
the  universe  for  him, —  a  girl's  fair,  sweet  face — and  it  dazzles  him  with 
its  luster,  wherever  he  may  roam.  He  feels  that  he  has  entered  a  new  world, 
and  the  light  of  that  face  dazzles  his  eyes.  Then  he  is  absent  a  few  weeks, 
and  on  his  return  he  finds  a  change  in  his  sweetheart,  and  they  quarrel,  and 
she  tells  him  that  she  has  found  some  one  she  loves  better.  And  his  idyllic 
dream,  with  its  sweet,  tender  memories,  is  shattered  forever!  ..And  he  feels 
that  ruin  and  chaos  have  closed  around  all  things,  and  that  the  world  is  a 
deception.  Though  his  friends  may  ridicule  his  pain,  and  he  may  reason 
with  himself  till  he  thinks  he  has  completely  conquered  the  old  pain,  yet 
the  sight  of  her  fair  face,  or  the  scent  of  the  perfume  that  always  seemed 
to  cling  about  her  may  in  a  moment  make  his  heart  swell  with  all  its  old 


THROUGH    WAR    TO   PEACE.  95 

bitterness  again.       But  after  avvliile  lie  becomes  diseuamored,  and  then  be- 
comes a  misogynist  for  awliile,  but  finally  he  recovers,  and  tlien  he  discovers 
that  there  are  other  fair  faces  in  the  world,  for,  as  the  poet  says : 
'Ay,  such  is  man's  philosophy  when  woman  is  untrue, 
The  loss  of  one  but  teaches  him  to  make  another  do.' 
"And  Sam  Dawn  met  Mary  Black,  and  she  proved  a  balm  for  nearly  all  his 
woe,  and  so  you  see,  to  slightly  change  the  old  proverb,  '  '  Tis  always  the 
Blackest  just  before  the  Dawn.' 

"The  next  marriage  we  have  to  report  is  that  of  James  King  to  Nelly 
Slave.     They  are  of  a  nubile  age  and  new  people  in  the  village,  and  we  have 
not  been  able  to  learn  much  about  them ;  but  in  the  words  of  the  poet: 
'  Love  !   thou  art  not  a  King  alone  ; 

Both  Slave  and  King  thou  art. 
Who  seeks  to  swaj',  must  stoop  to  own 
The  Kingdom  ©f  the  heart.' 
"It  is  with  pleasure,"  continued  Haie,  "that  we  announce  the  marriage 
of  Charles  Havens  to  Emilj  Thorne,  for  it  is  the  consummation  of  a  life- 
long love.     He  is  generous,  brave  and  handsome  ;  a  man  and  a  scholar,  with  a 
noble,  tender  and  true  heart,  that  the  girl  who  has  won  it  must  dearly  prize. 
His  genial   manner,  his   goodhearteduess,  and   his   true   friendship,  while 
seemingly  unconscious  of  it  all,  have  won  for  him  every  true  heart's  admir- 
ation. 

She  is  a  charming,  accomplished  little  brunette,  with  a  sweet,  winning 
way.  She  is  a  noble  little  lady,  with  a  warm,  pure  hea,rt,  an  originality 
about  her  that  is  ever  fresh  and  pure,  while  her  sunny  smile  and  sympathy 
have  won  the  U)ve  of  young  and  old.  And  to  him  who  has  won  her  she  is 
more  than  a  golden  prize,  for  she  is  a  treasury  of  sympathy,  courage  and 
love ! 

"And  undoubtedly  they  have  both  realized  their  ideals;  he  in  the  fair, 
sweet  girl,  with  a  noble  heart ;  and  she  in  the  man  who,  despite  the  world's 
sordid  touch,  still  possesses  a  bright  record',  without  a  blot !  And  maj'  h« 
long  realize  the  sweetness  of  the  lines : 

'Oh,  pleasant  is  the  welcome  kiss, 

When  the  day's  dull  round  is  o'er, 
And  sweet  the  music  of  the  step 
That  meets  us  at  the  door.' 

"  There  is,"  continued  Hale,  "a  prospective  marriage  on  the  tapis,  that  of 
our  esthetic  friend  Fred  Stone  to  a  city  girl.  I  saw  him  out  buggy  riding 
with  his  inamorata  the  other  day,  driving  a  piebald  horse,  and  as  the  poet 
says: 

'  I  saw  the  curl  of  his  waving  lash. 

And  the  glance  of  his  knowing  eye. 
And  I  knew  he  thought  he  was  cutting  a  dash, 
As  his  steed  went  thundering  by.'  " 
As  Pete  Hale  finished  speaking,  there  came  a  series  of  loud  raps  at  the 
door,  and  the  sergeant-at-arms  hastened  to  it.       When  he  opened  the  door 
and  gazed  out,  there  came  over  his  face  a  strong  expression  of  surprise. 


96  TH BOUGH    WAR   TO   PEACE. 

■which  each  moment  increased,  as  he  dropped  his  club  and  his  eyes  and  hia 
mouth  opened  in  wonder  to  tlieir  full  extent.  Then,  recovering  his  self- 
possession,  he  flung  the  door  wide  open,  and  in  stepped  Professor  Phantom, 
tall,  gaunt,  grim,  ghostly  as  ever !  In  an  instant  every  member  of  the  Club 
■was  on  his  feet  in  amazement,  for  it  had  been  reported  that  Phantom  had 
died,  and  had  been  buried  nearly  a  year  before ;  in  fact,  several  persons  in 
the  village  claimed  that  they  had  attended  his  funeral.  When  the  Vandals 
recovered  from  their  momentary  surprise  they  eagerly  crowded  around 
Phantom,  and  as  they  shook  hands  with  him  they  greeted  him  with  such 
expressions  as  :  "  How  are  you,  Ghost?"  "  Hello,  Goblin  !  "What's  the 
news  from  Hades?"  "  How  are  you,  Professor  Spook?  You're  the  same 
old  rattlebones."  "  Why,  you're  as  fat  as  a  match  !"  and  numerous  similar 
expressions.  But  Phantom  bore  their  raillery  and  gibes  good-naturedly, 
and  even  seemed  pleased  at  their  hearty  welcome.  When  order  had  been 
restored.  Phantom  said : 

"Mr.  President  and  members  of  the  Vandal  Congress:  It  is  with  a  world 
of  pleasure  that  1  receive  your  kindly  greeting,  and  my  heart  tells  me  that 
I  am  again  among  friends.  Life  has  many  trials  and  vicissitudes,  but  I 
feel,  to  use  a  classical  phrase.  Post  tot  naiifragla  portum  —  after  many 
shipwrecks,  I  have  found  a  harbor.  I  am  growing  old,  and  cannot  bear  the 
fluctuating  tide  of  flckle  fortune,  as  in  former  years.  And  I  am  aware  that 
the  rejuvenescence  of  youth  has  departed,  and  I  shall  never  begin  in  the 
incipiency  of  things  again." 

"  No,"  said  Verbum,  "when  nature  makes  a  miscalculation,  she  never  re- 
peats the  identical  experiment,  at  least  not  with  the  same  material." 

"Exactly,"  said  Phantom,  "and  I'm  content  to  say,  in  tte  words  of  the 
poet : 

'  Fortune  and  Hope,  farewell !     I've  gained  the  port; 
You've  fooled  me  long — make  others  now  your  sport." 

"Or,  in  the  words  of  Homer,"  replied  Verbum: 

•  The  field  of  combat  fits  the  young  and  bold ; 
The  solemn  council  best  becomes  the  old.'  " 

"Very  appropriate,  Mr.  President,  very  appropriate!" 

"I  merely  threw  it  out  as  a  supererogatory,  metaphysical  suggestion." 

"  I  move,"  said  a  Vandal,  "that  Professor  Phantom  be  elected  a  member 
of  the  Vandal  Congress." 

"  He  was  a  whilom  member,  was  he  not?"  asked  Verbum. 

"Yes,"  replied  the  clerk,  after  he  had  examined  the  roll. 

"Then  he  is  already  a  Vandal.  For,  like  the  College  of  Cardinals,  once 
a  Cardinal,  always  a  Cardinal,  so  it  is  with  this  body,  once  a  Vandal,  always 
a  Vandal.     Only  the  King  of  Terrors  can  remove  a  member." 

At  this  moment  a  card  was  sent  in  from  the  door,  bearing  a  request  to  see 
Verbum.  He  immediately  called  Will  Stoakes  to  the  chair  and  left  the 
room. 

As  Verbum  left  the  room  Ed  Thome  arose  and  said:  "Mr.  President:  I 
was  never  so  surprised  in  my  life  as  when  I  saw  our  illustrious  fnend  Pro- 
fessor Phantom  enter  the  room,  after  so  many  of  our  citizens  had  attended 


THROUGH    WAR     TO    PEACJ^.  97 

his  funeral,  and  it  reminds  me  forcibly  of  a  story,  which  runs  as  follows: 

"  Two  sailors  with  a  tame  parrot  one  night  went  to  a  sleight  of  hand  show, 
held  in  the  upper  part  of  a  warehouse,  in  New  Orleans.  Although  the  three 
constituted  the  entire  audience,  the  showman  proceeded  with  the  perform- 
ance. He  was  very  clever,  and  performed  sr>me  very  wonderful  tricks,  so 
that  he  greatly  excited  the  amazement  of  one  of  the  sailors,  who  after  every 
feat  of  jugglery  would  exclaim: 

"  '  That's  pretty  good  !       I  wonder  what  he'll  do  next?' 

"  After  awhile  the  silent  sailor  asked  leave  to  smoke  his  pipe,  which  was 
granted,  'seeing,'  as  the  magician  remarked,  'there  were  no  ladies  present.* 
Thus  the  performance  proceeded,  one  of  the  sailors  smoking  his  pipe  in 
silence,  while  the  other  would  exclaim  after  every  trick  : 

"  '  That's  pretty  good !     I  wonder  what  he'll  do  next?' 

"At  last  the  sailor  of  few  words  grew  tired  of  smoking,  and  knocked  the 
hot  ashes  from  his  pipe  through  a  knot-hole  in  the  floor,  all  unconscious 
that  four  hundred  tons  of  gunpowder  were  stored  below! 

"In  an  mutant  they  were  all,  with  the  exception  of  the  parrot,  blown  to 
the  kingdom  to  come.  The  parrot  was  blown  about  three  miles  into  the  air 
and  across  the  Mississippi  Kiver,  where  it  came  down  with  the  loss  of  its 
wings,  one  eye  and  a  leg,  while  its  tail  feathers  were  burned  ofif.  .  As  the 
bird  flopped  down  on  a  post  on  its  only  remaining  leg,  it  shrieked  wildly: 

"  'That's  pretty  good  ! !     I  wonder  what  he'll  do  next?' " 

Just  as  Thorne  concluded  his  narrative  Verbum  entered,  and  in  answer  to 
Stoakes's  offer  to  vacate  the  chair,  he  said  :  "  No,  retain  the  chair;  I  wish 
to  make  a  few  remarks.  I  was  never  so  astonished  in  my  life,"  he  began, 
•'as  when  our  quondam  and  illustrious  compatriot,  Professor  Phantom,  ap- 
peared before  us.  That  mortal  man  could  appear  again  after  so  many  of 
the  denizens  of  our  village  had  attended  his  obsequies,  and  after  the  Vandal 
Congress  had  given  him  such  a  brilliant  obituary,  is  astounding  to  a  marvelous 
degree!  And  I  can  only  portray  my  wonderment  by  the  ensuiug  apologue, 
which  with  the  acquiei^cence  of  this  august  body,  1  will  will  proceed  to  an- 
nunciate : 

"Two  mariners,  accompanied  by  a  domesticated  scausorial  avis,  on  a  noc- 
turnal occasion,  attended  an  exhibition  of  the  Theurgicart  in  the  metropolis 
of  New  Orleans.  Although  they  constituted  the  entire  audience,  neverthe- 
less the  nomadic  prestidigitator  inaugurated  proceedings  in  the  esoteric 
science.  The  disciple  of  magic  eventuated  to  ver^'  expert  and  deedalian, 
in  performing  remarkable  mysticism,  so  that  he  engendered  the  prodigious 
amazement  of  one  of  the  sons  of  Neptune,  who,  subsequent  to  every  con- 
guration,  would  vociferate : 

"  '  Trismegistus  !  but  that  trenches  on  the  admirable.  My  curiosity  be- 
comes procreated  to  become  cognizant  of  what  he  will  effectuate  in  the 
futurity?' 

"Subsequently  the  taciturn  mariner  solicited  permission  to  produce  the 
ebolitiou  of  a  jag  of  tobacco  in  his  chiboque,  as  it  was  his  assiietude  to  do, 
which,  owing  to  the  fair  daughters  of  Eve  being  reduced  to  nihility,  was 
accordingly  conceded.  Thus  proceeded  the  concatenation  of  events  in  the 
accrescent  mystical  seance,  one  of  the  sous  of  Neptune  performing  an  eb'i..- 


98  THROUGH    WAR   TO  PEACE. 

tion  on  his  nargile,  or  dudeen,  while  the  other  vociferated  in  the  sequel  of 
each  prostidigitation  : 

•'  •  Trismegistus  !  but  that  trenches  on  the  admirable.  My  curiosity  be- 
comes procreated  to  become  cognizant  of  what  he  will  effectuate  in  the 
futurity?' 

"By  way  of  a  denouement,  or  finale,  the  pauciloquent  sailor  became 
surfeited  with  the  ebolition  of  tobacco,  and  insidiously  collided  the  glowing 
embers  from  his  calumet,  through  an  aperture  in  the  floor,  unaware  of  the 
existence  beneath  of  four  hundred  tons  of  a  highly  explosive  material.  In 
an  infinitesimal  duration,  they  were  evaporated  across  the  Stygian  tor- 
rent into  the  Elysian  arena,  with  the  subduction  of  the  scansorial  bird,  who 
was  ejaculated  a  league  into  space,  over  the  Mississippi  cataclysm,  minus 
his  pennate  attachments,  also  an  orb  of  siglitand  one  pedal  extremity,  while 
his  plumage  was  consideiabiy  incinerated.  As  he  descended  upon  a  timber 
projecting  from  this  terrestrial  sphere,  on  his  only  remaining  pedal  extrem- 
ity, he  pragmatically  vocifearted,  with  a  Machlavelian  sneer: 

"  •  Trismegistus  !  but  that  trenches  on  the  admirable.  My  curiosity  be- 
comes procreated  to  become  cognizant  of  what  he  will  effectuate  in  the 
futurity!!'" 

W  hen  Verbura  ceased  speaking,  Jake  Metzler  (whom  the  reader  will  remem- 
ber as  the  hero  of  the  long  retreat  from  Bull  Run)  arose  and  remarked: 
•'Mr.  Biesident:  If  I  don't  vas  mistaken,  it  seems  to  me  dot  I've  heard 
dot  sthory  before." 

This  remark  was  the  signal  for  a  roar  of  laughter,  while  Jake  looked 
around  in  wonder  at  their  merriment. 

Verbum  resumed  the  chair,  and  said  :  "  We  will  now  hear  the  report  of 
the  Chairman  of  the  Committee  on  Revenge." 

Joe  Hart,  the  Chairman  of  the  Committee,  arose  and  began  :  "  Mr.  Presi- 
dent: Old  Jack  Hall  made  various  defamatory  and  threatening  remarks 
concerning  the  Vandals,  so  the  otlier  night  we  greased  and  soaped  his  back 
porch.  And  the  next  morning,  when  the  old  codger  went  out  to  get  a  pail 
of  water,  his  heels  flew  out  from  under  him  and  he  made  an  attempt  to 
Stand  on  his  head.  We  also  circulated  a  report  that  he  whipped  his  wife, 
and  it  is  all  over  the  town. 

•'Oid  Morgan  said  we  were  a  pack  of  roughs  and  scoundrels.  And  the 
other  night  we  tied  his  clothes  line  across  his  back  porch.  Then  we  hid,  and 
squeaked  like  a  chicken.  The  old  skinflint  ran  out  to  see  who  was  stealing 
his  hens,  and  tried  to  saw  his  head  off  on  the  clothes  line." 

'«  Did  he  succeed?"  asked  a  Vandal. 

«•  I  think  the  old  buccaneer  did  pretty  well,  for  he's  had  his  neck  wrapped 
In  flannel  ever  since. 

•'  Mrs.  Daggletail  Brown  says  she  is  going  to  have  us  all  arrested  for 
Blander." 

"I  move,"  said  a  Vandal,  "that  the  matter  be  referred  to  the  Judiciary 
Committee,  with  power  to  act.'* 
It  was  so  ordered. 

"And,"  said  the  Chairman  of  the  Judiciary  Committee,  "we'll  give  the  old 
p-^twolloper  all  the  law  she  wants." 


THEOVGH    WAB.   TO   FEACE.  99 

"Old  Molloy  has  lately  made  inany  threats  and  applied  numerous  epithets 
to  us.  We  haven't  had  time  to  operate  on  the  old  bushwiiacker  yet,  but 
expt  ct  soon  to  do  so.  Old  Haskell  said  we  were  a  neocrac3%  or  woids  to 
that  'effect.     Wo  expect  to  operate  on  the  old  corsair  before  long." 

As  Hart  sat  down,  President  Verbum  said  :  "I  have  been  consulting  with 
a  number  of  the  members  of  this  body,  and  I  would  throw  out  as  a  super- 
erogatory, raetaphj'sieal  suggestion,  that  with  this  meeting  the  duties  of 
the  Committee  on  Revenge  be  discontinued — in  other  words,  that  its  labors 
cease.  There  is  an  old  Latin  proverb  which  says,  ][rtserrima  fortuna  est 
quce  inimico  caret— That  is  a  most  miserable  fortune,  which  is  without  an 
enemy.  And  undoubtedly  there  is  a  great  deal  of  truth  in  the  aphoiism. 
For  a  person  without  an  enemy  would  be  a  kind  of  nonentity — anyhow  he 
would  not  be  apt  to  have  a  great  deal  of  conviviality.  And  the  person  who 
revenges  every  injury  that  is  done  him  has  nj  time  for  anything  else.  If 
we  wish  to  make  our  lives  a  success,  we  can  afford  to  let  the  dogs  bark  as 
we  go  by.  In  every  community  there  is  always  a  class  of  popiujaj's  and 
old  idiots  who  are  envious  of  anyone  whom  they  think  is  superior  to  them 
in  education  and  intelligence,  and  they  think  it  necessary  to  wag  their  slan- 
derous tongues.  The  Chinese  have  a  maxim  that  somewhat  illustrates  this 
point;  it  is:  Towers  are  measured  by  tiieir  shallows,  great  men  by  those 
who  are  envious  of  them." 

"That's  lis,"  said  a  Vandal  in  the  rear. 

"  Not  exactly, "  replied  Verbum.  "'Fools  rush  in  where  angels  fear  to 
tread.'  But  still  this  exemplilies  the  trite  fact  that  idiots  are  always  envious 
of  those  whom  thej'  believe  to  be  their  superiors.  But  the  best  way  is  to 
treat  this  class — be  they  tatterdemalions,  waileteers  or  plutocrats — with 
silent  contempt.  Though,  at  the  same  time,  it  is  well,  to  use  the  words  of 
the  philosopher  Pittacus,  '  To  watch  your  opportunity.'  " 

As  Verbum  finished  his  discourse,  Ed  Thorna  arose,  and  with  a  withering 
glance  of  contempt  at  the  large  dictionaries  and  the  twelve  volumes  of  the 
encyclopedia,  said  :  "I  arisse  for  information."  And  with  another  glance  of 
contempt  at  the  volumes,  he  continued :  "  'Plutocrat'  is  neither  in  the  dic- 
tionary or  the  encyclopedia.  And,  I  suppose,  'walleteer'  is  not,  also,  but  I 
have  not  searched  for  it.  Will  you  be  kind  enough  to  inform  me  of  the 
meaning  of  these  words?" 

"A  walleteer,"  said  Verbum,  "is  a  second  cousin  to  a  garreteer,  and  first 
cousin  to  a  nomad,  and  synonymous  to  a  tramp.  It  is  in  the  dictionary, 
but  the  other  word,  'Plutociat,'  has  not  yet  been  devoured  and  digested  by 
the  omniverous  lexicographers.  A  plutocrat  is  a  person  suddenly  arisen 
from  low  life  to  wealth;  a  parvenu." 

The  motion  of  IStoakes,  to  discontinue  the  Committee  on  Kevenge,  was 
then  put  and  carried,  and  Verbum  then  called  for  the  report  of  the  Chairman 
of  the  Committee  on  Temperance. 

For  the  Vandal  Congress  had  become  a  temperance  organization.  Who 
had  been  the  prime  mover  in  elTecting  it  was  an  enigma  none  couid  solve. 
Bur,  one  night,  at  a  special  meeting,  they  resolved  themselves  into  a  temper- 
ance body,  and  they  did  it  with  a  great  deal  of  style  and  eclat.  They  made 
speeches  on  temperance,  and  repeated  and  reaa  all  the  Bacchanalian  poetry 


100  THROUGH   WAR   TO    PEACE. 

they  knew  or  had  ever  heard.  Then  they  brought  out  the,  famous  "  little 
brown  jug,"  full  of  whiskey,  and  put  into  it  aquae  ammouia,  aloes,  asafoet- 
ida  and  various  other  nauseous  mixtures,  then,  filling  their  glasses  from  its 
contents,  they  invited  each  other  to  drink.  None  of  them,  however,  tiisted 
the  mixture  except  Jake  Metzler,  of  Bull  Run  fame.  He  took  a  "horn," 
and  instantly  his  heels  flew  up  in  the  air  and  his  head  struck  the  floor. 
"Donder  and  blitzen  !"  he  reraafkod  afterward,  "it  liked  to  kilt  me  1" 

After  their  carnival  of  fun  they  proceeded  to  business — and  they  did  not 
do  things  by  halves.  They  passed  a  set  of  laws  making  the  penalty  for  the 
first  offense  (drinking  liquorj  suspension  from  the  club  for  six  months,  and 
for  a  second,  and  each  succeeding  offense,  suspension  for  a  year.  But  they 
allowed  the  accused  a  trial  before  a  jury  of  his  peers,  and  also  counsel,  but 
at  the  same  time  they  took  the  precaution  to  elect  a  prosecuting  attorney, 
whose  duty  it  was  to  proceed  against  the  accused.  Ed  Thorne,  who  was  a 
law  student,  had  been  chosen  tor  this  offlce. 

The  Chairman  of  the  Temperance  Committee  arose  and  said:  "We  have 
but  one  offender  to  report— Jake  Metzler.  He  was  discovered  in  flagrante 
delicto — in  the  very  act  of  drinking  a  glass  of  lager  beer." 

"Has  any  information  been  filed  against  him?"  asktd  Verbum. 

"  Yes,  Mr.  President,"  replied  Thorne. 

"  Has  the  accused  counsel?" 

"Yes,"  replied  Pete  Hale,  a  law  student,  "I  ana  acting  for  the  defense. 
And  I  will  state  that  the  accused  pleads  not  guilty,  and  that  the  ground  of 
defense  is  impulsive  or  emotional  insanity."  Then,  turning  to  Bill  Stoakes, 
a  medical  student,  he  said  in  a  whisper:  "  Bill,  you  had  better  read  up  on 
'Insanity  in  its  Relation  to  Crime,'  as  I  shall  call  you  as  an  expert." 

"Then,"  said  Yerbum,  "the  trial  is  set  for  the  next  regular  meeting  of 
the  Congress,  at  which  time  you  are  expected  to  have  your  witnesses  and 
experts  here.'' 

"Owing  to  the  lateness  of  the  evening,"  continued  the  President,  "and 
the  somnolence  of  some  of  the  members,  we  will  postpone  the  report  of  the 
Committee  on  Incidents  of  the  War,  and  hear  the  report  of  the  librarian, 
after  which  we  will  prorogue  this  session  of  the  Congress." 

Ed  Thorne,  the  librarian,  arose  and  said  :  "Since  the  last  session  we  have 
purchased  the  Encyclopedia  Britannica,  the  Imperial  Dictionary,  and  Frois- 
sart's  Chronicles,  and  have  received  by  donation  eight  volumes." 

As  Thorne  resumed  his  seat,  Verbum  said:  "The  motion  to  adjourn  is 
now  in  order." 

And  in  a  few  minutes  more  the  lights  were  extinguished,  and  the  Vandals 
were  filing  into  the  dark  street.  And  now,  gentle  reader,  wishing  them 
godspeed  and  prosperity,  we  bid  farewell  to  the  budding  potentates  of  the 
future ! 


PHAPTER   XIX. 
homjb:  again  m  st,  ABiiXiiB. 


gy'VE  wandered  ou  through  many  a  clime  where  flowers 

C^  of  beauty  grew, 

Where  all  was  blissful  to  the  heart  and  lovely 

to  the  view— 
I've  seen  tlieni  lu  their  twilight  pride,  and  in  tbelr 

dress  of  morn. 
But  none  appeared  so  dear  to  me  as  the  spot  where 

I  was  born.  —Anonymoiu. 

ENEEAL  Charles  Landon,  after  his  return  from  the  geological 
.  expedition  in  South  America,  about  four  months  before,  had 
been  residing  in  tha  city  near  St.  Arlyle,  but  the  fame  he  had 
won  as  a  scientist  had  preceded  him,  until  his  renown  as  a 
scientist  rivaled  and  even  exceeded  his  brilliant  career  as  a  sol- 
dier. Fortune,  too,  that  fickle  goddess,  had  smiled  generously 
upon  him.  But  despite  his  fame  and  fortune,  there  came  an  almost  irre- 
sistible longing  to  go  back  to  the  quiet  little  village  of  St.  Arlyle,  the  home 
of  his  boyhood  and  early  manhood,  around  which  clung  the  sweetest  and 
dearest  memories  of  all  the  halcyon  days  of  his  youth,  when  "life  seemed 
bathed  in  Hope's  romantic  hues."  Those  happy,  careless  days,  colored  ia 
sweetest  memories  by  the  golden  light  of  love  ! 

Some  one  has  said  that  little  villages  are  the  nearest  to  earthly  atoms  of 
shattered  paradise,  and  I  think  that  no  truer  words  were  ever  written.  There 
IS  a  charm  about  a  little  village  that  a  city  can  never  possess.       For  in  » 


102  THROUGH    WAR   TO   FTJACH. 

great  metropolis  one's  indiviflnality  is  so  completely  burled  in  the  large  mass 
of  people  that  if  he  falls  from  the  ranks  he  is  as  little  missed — except  by 
his  nearest  circle  of  friends — as  would  be  a  wave  on  a  mighty  ocean's  breast ; 
but  in  a  village  there  is  a  personality — the  whole  village  know  each  other; 
they  may  gossip  about  one,  and,  to  use  a  hyperbole,  know  one's  own  busi- 
ness better  than  he  does  himself.  But,  after  all,  it  shows  an  interest  in  one, 
and  often  not  an  unkindly  feeling,  though  sometimes  roughly  expressec4,  but 
Btill  uever  with  that  careless  viciousness  we  too  often  see  in  a  city.  As  we 
have  said,  the  village  people  know  nearly  all^bout  each  other's  affairs,  and 
lake  more  than  a  passing  interest  in  them.  The  last  marriage  has  been 
weighed  and  discussed  by  them,  even  when  the  young  people  first  became 
engaged,  and  then  they  always  throw  a  tinge  of  romance  aroimd  the  young 
couple's  matrimonial  bliss,  with  sincere  wishes  for  their  future  welfare! 
Births,  too,  receive  their  share  of  attention,  for  when  Ned  and  Nelly  become 
the  parents  of  a  baby  the  event  is  thoroughly  discussed.  And  lastly,  when 
death  reaps  one  of  the  town's  citizens,  there  are  always  true  regrets  at  his 
loss ;  for,  unlike  the  busier  world,  they  have  time  to  feel  and  soothe  an- 
other's woe. 

Nearly  all  men  keep  some  little  village  in  reserve,  for  a  home  in  case  of 
mischancefcr  misfortune,  or  when  they  become  tired  of  the  worry  of  society. 
And  what  a  sweet  rest  it  often  proves  to  bankrupts  in  trade,  mortified 
pleaders  in  courts  and  senates,  victims  of  idleness  and  pleasure,  or  men 
who  have  brilliantly  succeeded  in  the  great  world,  but  found  at  last  that 
the  world's  greatest  honors  were  simply  dross,  and  what  their  hearts  needed 
most  was  peace  and  love! 

And  so  they  are  all  given — regardless  of  their  former  glories,  mischances 
or  defeats — a  place  in  the  little  conmion wealth,  and  they  soon  learn  to  like 
the  little  world  far  better  than  they  ever  did  the  great  one.  For  we  nearly 
always  find  that  little  things  are  the  sweetest.  Little  cottages  are  generally 
the  most  cozy,  little  farms  the  best  tilled,  little  books  the  most  read,  little 
songsthemostsung,  little  words  the  sweetest,  littlelakes  the  stillest,  and  little 
hearts  the  fullest.  Everyone  calls  that  little  which  he  loves  best  and  dearest 
on  earth.  And  Nature,  too,  when  she  makes  anything  supremely  beau- 
tiful and  rare,  makes  it  little — little  diamonds,  little  pearls  and  little  rubies. 
And  so  I  shall  always  think  that  little  villages  are  the  nearest  earthly 
atoms  of  shattered  xiaradise! 

As  we  have  remarked,  there  came  a  longing,  an  irresistible  desire  in  Lan- 
don's  he  irt  to  roam  again  among  the  hills  and  vales  of  St.  Arlyle.  The 
spot  around  which  his  heart's  sweetest  and  tenderest  memories  of  bygone 
years  still  clung;  and  though  he  felt  Bi-rtha's  love  was  lost  to  him  forever, 
still  there  came  a  longing  in  his  heart  to  revisit  the  old  scenes,  where  they 
had  spent  §uch  blissful  days  together,  and  to  live  them  over  in  imagination, 
if  not  in  reality.  Bays,  a?  he  looked  back  to  them,  that  seemed  embalmed 
with  a  touch  of  paradise.  And  no  words  can  express  how  deeply  and  sin- 
cerely he  regretted  his  rash  act  of  doubting  Bertha's  constancy,  and  flinging 
away  her  love.  "It  was,"  he  thought  over  and  over  again,  "a  mad,  foolish 
course  to  pursue,  but  I  have  suffered  dearly  for  it.  But  I  deserve  it  all,  and 
even  more." 


THROUGH    WAR    TO  PEACE.  lOS 

So  one  fine  summer  day  Charles  Landon  left  his  ofiBce  and  turned  down  a 
street  of  the  city  leading  toward  the  railway  station,  from  whence  the  cars 
ran  to  St.  Arlyle.  When  he  reached  the  station,  he  glanced  at  his  watch 
and  found  that  he  had  nearly  an  hour  to  wait  before  the  departure  of  the 
train.  Nearly  opposite  the  station  stood  the  Academy  of  Art,  and  as  he 
gazed  toward  it,  he  noticed  au  announcement  in  front  of  the  builc'ing  that 
there  was  then  being  held  a  grand  exhibition  of  paintings  by  local  and  for- 
eign artists.  He  was  very  fond  of  art,  and  quite  a  connoisseur  of  paintings, 
so  he  crossed  the  street  and  entered  the  Academy.  There  was  a  large 
crowd  of  spectators  present,  and  he  found  the  exhibition  of  paintings  a  very 
valuable  and  extensive  one,  so  he  strolled  along  for  some  time,  examining 
them,  when  his  attention  was  attracted  by  an  unusual  crowd  around  a  paint- 
ing at  the  farther  end  of  the  hall,  which,  from  the  attention  it  attracted, 
seemed  to  be  the  gem  of  the  collection.  As  he  approached  it,  almost  at  the 
first  glance  there  was  something  that  struck  him  as  unusually  familiar  about 
the  scene  it  represented.  In  a  few  moments  he  recognized  the  painting  as 
a  representation  of  the  room  in  which  he  had  lain  wounded  so  many  weeks 
after  the  battle  of  Gettysburg.  That  room,  he  felt,  he  could  never  forget, 
for  every  lineament  of  it  was  indelibly  impressed  on  his  mind,  during  those 
long  days  of  suffering  and  weeks  of  convalescence. 

The  painting  was  simply  entitled,  "For  His  Country,"  and  represented  a 
medium-sized  apartment,  with  a  bed  in  one  corner,  upon  which  a  wounded 
soldier  was  lying,  while  in  the  distance,  through  the  open  window,  could  be 
seen  a  battle  raging,  armid  tire  and  smoke.  The  wouuded  man  was  attired 
in  the  full  uniform  of  an  officer,  and  the  blood  from  his  wounds  was  yet 
fresh,  bespattering  the  breast  of  his  dark  blue  ccat,  and  partly  crimsoning 
the  golden  star  in  the  insignia  of  his  rank,  on  one  of  his  shoulders.  His 
head  was  resting  on  one  arm,  and  the  face  was  partly  turned  toward  the 
■wall,  but  there  were  enough  of  its  lineaments  portrayed  for  Charles  Landon 
to  recognize  it  as  a  copy  of  his  own  face.  The  picture  had  eyidently  been 
painted  by  a  master  hand,  and  it  was  fascinatingly  realistic  to  Landon,  as  he 
observed  that  not  a  particular  of  the  scene  had  been  omitted.  The  oldr 
fashioned  chairs,  the  stand,  and  the  pictures  on  the  walls,  were  allportpeiyed 
there,  while  even  the  red  climbing  roses,  nodding  in  at  the  window,  had  not 
been  forgotten.  How  well  he  remembered  them,  when,  after  nights  of  pain 
and  delirium,  he  awoke  and  saw  them  on  their  long,  pendant  stems  waft 
through  the  open  window  in  the  warm  July  air,  till  in  his  feverish  imagina- 
tion they  seemed  like  human  heads  noddinghima  good  morningand  endeav- 
oring to  encourage  him  in  his  struggle  with  death.  And  the  mythological 
picture  on  the  wall— Hercules's  contest  with  the  Nemean  lion — had  been  re- 
produced with  all  the  fidelity  of  the  original.  What  memories,  too,  that 
picture  awakened  of  tliose  bygone  days — when  the  spark  of  life'  flickered 
but  feebly  in  his  body,  and  his  feveiish  brain  in  its  semi-consciousness  often 
took  the  shadow  for  the  substance — and  he  gazed  upon  it  like  one  under  a 
spell,  till  in  his  feverish  fancy  the  actors  became  endowed  with  life,  and 
the  struggle  between  the  hero  and  the  beast  became  an  actual  one.  Then 
how  he  sympathized  with  the  hero,  and  longed  for  his  victory. 

Charles   Landon    had  become   so  absorbed   in  the  contemplation  of  the 


10 A  THROUGH    WAR   TO  PEACE. 

painting,  that  he  had  grown  oblivious  to  all  around  him,  when  he  was 
aroused  from  his  reverie  by  becoming  aware  that  others  beside  himself  had 
noticed  his  resemblance  to  the  portrait.  Not  wishing  to  attract  attention, 
he  modestly  turned  away,  but  not  before  he  had  learned  that  the  artist's 
name  was  Bertha  Mertun! 

"Ah,"  he  thought,  as  he  saw  her  name  in  one  corner  of  the  painting, 
"that  accounts  for  its  fidelity  to  the  original !  Perhaps,"  bethought,  "there 
may  be  a  lingering  spark  of  the  old  love  in  her  heait.  But  it  is  hardly  pos- 
sible, after  the  brutal  way  I  acted  toward  het.  But  still,  'there  are  more 
things  in  heaven  and  earth  than  are  dreamed  of  in  our  philosophj'.'  " 

Just  then  the  last  warning  peals  of  the  locomotive's  bell  sounded,  and  he 
hurried  from  the  building  and  entered  a  car. 

As  the  train  approached  St.  Arlyie  there  arose  before  him,  as  if  by  magic, 
the  old  scenes  of  his  boyhood  he  knew  so  well,  lying  clear  and  calm  in  the 
light  of  that  beautiful  summer  afternoon.  And  what  an  association  of  de- 
lightful memories  each  hill,  brook  and  meadow  brought  back  to  him.  There 
at  the  base  of  the  mountain,  was  the  little  lake,  where  he  used  to  love  to 
6wim,  while  above  it  rose  the  tall  mountain  that  he  had  often  climbed,  and 
while  standing  beneath  its  shady  oaks,  had  "viewed  the  landscape  o'er." 
There,  too,  were  the  blue  waters  of  the  bay,  with  their  white-caps  splashing 
on  the  sandy  beach,  as  in  the  years  of  yore. 

At  last  the  church  spires  and  the  taller  buildings  of  the  village  came  full 
in  view,  lying  calm  and  peaceful  in  the  summer  sunshine.  And  in  his  heart 
what  a  wealth  of  memories  clung  around  them.  There  was  the  old  haunted 
.house  on  the  hill,  around  which  many  a  bright  fancy  clung,  and  there  were 
the  college  buildings,  in  which  he  had  passed  many  a  happy  day,  and  there, 
too,  was  the  cottage  on  the  rising  ground  above  the  river,  a  spot  doubly 
dear  and  sweet  to  him,  for  it  was  Bertha's  old  home.  At  last  the  train  ran 
over  the  bridge  across  the  river,  whose  waters  rippled  cool  and  clear  be- 
neath the  shadows  that  fringed  its  banks.  And  as  the  old  beloved  scenes 
broke  before  him,  his  spirits  arose  as  if  by  euchantmeut,  and  he  repeated 
almost  passionately  the  lines  of  the  poet: 

'  "1  am  come  again  with  summer, 

Ii  IS  lovely  to  behold, 
WIK  It  weloome  the  newcomer, 
Aa  It  ust-d  to  do  ot  old? 
Within  those  dark  green  covers, 
'  Whose  shade  is  downward  cast. 

How  many  a  memory  hovers 
Whose  light  is  from  the  past!" 

^/hen  the  train  reached  the  station  and  Landon  was  yet  stepping  from 
the  car,  he  was  met  by  Colonel  Tom  Gleaton. 

"Ah,  General,"  said  Gleaton,  "  Welcome  back  to  St.  Arlyie!  You  seethe 
town  has  improved  since  last  you  saw  it.  It  has  become  quite  a  fashionable 
watering-place.  We  publish  the  village  paper  twice  a  week  now,  and  I'm 
its  editor." 

"That's  the  very  profession  that  will  suit  your  genius.  In  fact  the  one 
you've  been  looking  for  for  years.'" 

"  No,"  replied  Gleaton,  in  his  facetious  way,  "it  is  journalism  that  has 


TliROVGH    WAR     TO    PEACE.  105 

been  searchiug  for  me.       And  I've  no  doubt  it  would  have  languished,  had 
it  not  discovered  your  humble  servant." 

At  that  moment  Laudon  was  surrounded  by  a  host  of  old  friends,  who 
profusely  expiessed  their  delight  in  welcoming  him  back  again. 

He  left  the  station  and  strolled  through  the  village,  everywhere  meeting 
with  friends,  who  greeted  him  with  joj'ous  delight,  fcr  he  had  ever  been  a 
favorite  with  young  and  old  in  St.  Arlyle.  He  visited  the  college  an  1  strolled 
past  the  hauijted  house — no  longer  haunted  now,  but  converted  into  a  vil- 
lage museum  and  library.  He  stopped  in  front  of  Bertha's  old  home  and 
gazed  into  the  garden,  as  there  arose  in  his  lieart  sweet  memories  of  those 
happy  bygone  days.  Then  he  wandered  through  the  tangled  wood  to  the 
river,  and  along  its  bank,  watching  its  clear,  rippling  waters  till  his  heart 
grew  buoyant  and  joyous,  and  he  lived  over  in  imagination — if  not  in  reality 
— those  old,  enchanted  days  again  !  At  last  he  reached  the  bridge,  where 
he  and  Bertha  first  had  met;  and  though  its  association  aroused  a  host  of 
pleasant  memories,  still  there  came  justa  tinge  of  sadness  on  his  handsome 
face,  as  he  felt  she  was  lost  to  him  forever,  though  her  image  would  ever 
remain  stamped  on  his  heart.  But  then  he  thought: 
"  'Tis  better  to  have  loved  and  lost, 
Than  never  to  have  loved  at  all." 

Man  bewails,  but  God  directs  in  his  mysterious  way.     For  though  he  dared 
not  even  dream  it,  he  should  live  the  old*  life  over  again,  in  all  its  fullness 
'and  all  its  sweetness  too ! 

Toward  the  close  of  the  afternoon,  he  strolled  back  to  the  bay,  and,  wan- 
dering along  the  sandy  beach  until  he  came  to  a  ledge  of  granite — towering 
fully  forty  feet  above  the  beach — he  climbed  to  the  summit  of  the  huge 
rocks  and  stood  carelessly  gazing  at  the  blue  expanse  of  water,  and  over 
the  green  fields  and  pebbly  beach.  And  it  was  a  picture  sufiBciently  beauti- 
ful to  please  even  a  taste  more  fastidious  than  his.  In  the  distance,  there 
gleamed  the  bright,  thread-like  waters  of  the  river,  lined  on  each  bank  by 
verdant  willows  and  green,  sloping  meadows ;  while  amid  the  evergreen 
foliage  and  climbing  roses,  tiestledthe  white  cottages,  showing  in  all  the 
glory  of  the  summer  afternoon's  light;  beyond  lay  the  long  stretch  of  moun- 
tains, covered  with  trees  and  vines,  and  divided  by  many  shady  ravines  and 
nooks.  At  his  feet  ran  the  curving  beach,  covered  with  boulders  and  peb- 
bles, that  had  been  washed  shoreward  by  many  a  winter's  storm.  In  front 
lay  the  blue  waters  of  the  bay,  reflecting  the  color  of  the  azure  sky  above, 
stretching  miles  away,  and  sleeping  its  peaceful  summer  sleep,  with  only 
the  low  rumble  of  the  surf  to  teli  of  the  pent  up  fury  and  mighty  power 
that  lay  dormant  in  its  peaceful  bosom.  On  the  little  wharf,  in  front  of  the 
hotel,  nearly  three-quarters  of  a  mile  away,  were  several  parties  of  ladies 
and  gentlemen,  the  gay  garments  of  the  former  adding  a  charm  to  the  pic- 
ture, while  the  whole  was  far  enough  removed  from  the  spectator  to  produce 
a  pleasing  and  dreamy  effect,  viewed  in  the  fading  light  of  that  summer 
afternoon.  As  he  yet  stood  watching  the  pier,  a  little  steamer  left  it,  with 
a  pleasure  party  on  board,  and  bore  directly  toward  the  immense  granite 
boulders.       As  the  boat  approached,  there  was  the  figure  of  a  lady,  with 


106  THROUGH    WAR   TO  FEACE. 

brown,  curly  hair,  leaning  on  the  railing  of  the  quarter-deck,  that  particu- 
larly attracted  his  attention.  Although  her  back  was  toward  him  there  was 
something  unusually  familiar  about  her  hand>^ome  figure. 

As  the  little  steamer  was  passing  within  thirty  yards  of  the  cliff,  on  which 
he  stood,  the  lady  suddenly  turned  by  some  unaccountable  impulse  and 
gazed  in  his  direction.     In  an  instant  he  recognized  her — it  was  Bertha! 

As  she  saw  him,  she  seemed  surprised,  and  laid  her  hand  upon  her  bosom 
as  if  to  still  her  fluttering  heart,  while  the  face  she  had  schooled  and  con- 
trolled so  often,  for  once  played  her  false ;  for  over  her  sweet  face  came  a 
crimson  blush.  What  a  <lepth  of  mystery  there  is  in  a  blush,  that  a  word, 
a  look,  or  a  thought,  will  awaken,  sending  the  carnation  over  brow  and  cheek, 
like  the  soft  tint  of  a  sky  at  sunset.  Wonderful  too  that  it  is  only  the  face, 
the  human  face,  that  can  blush.  It  has  been  said  that  the  blush  of  modesty 
tinted  the  first  fair  woman's  cheek,  when  she  first  awoke  in  the  sunny  gar- 
denof  .tden,  and  that  it  has  lingered  with  Eve"s  fair  daughters  ever  since. 
It  has  also  been  truly  remarked  that  the  face  is  the  tablet  of  the  soul, 
whereon  it  records  its  actions  and  its  feelings.  And  so  thought  Charles 
Landon,  as  he  saw  her  beautiful  face  flush,  and  it  emboldened  him,  and  he 
resolved  that  before  another  day's  sunset  he  would  win  her  heart,  or  know 
his  fate  ! 

In  a  few  moments  Bertha  recovered  her  self-possession  and  saluted  him 
with  a  graceful  bow  and  smile.  Instantly  Charles  Landon  raised  his  hat 
in  courteous  recognition  of  her  gi'CBting,  while  a  tender  light  broke  over  his 
face,  and  a  smile  played  about  his  lips,  which  was  plainly  visible,  for  the 
Bteamer  in  passing  was  not  more  than  thirty  yards  distant.  And  standing 
there,  high  among  the  rocks,  with  the  waning  light  of  that  summer  after- 
noon falling  full  upon  his  handsome  face  and  figure,  he  formed  a  pictui-e 
that  an  artist  would  have  loved  to  paint !  And  no  wonder,  then,  that  a 
thrill  of  admiration  crossed  Bertha  s  face,  as  she  noted  his  fine,  soldierly 
bearing  and  the  erect  poise  of  his  head,  crowned  with  its  dark  brown,  curly 
hair,  while  his  handsome  face  was  lit  with  a  rare,  sweet  tenderness  she 
remembered  so  well.  But  there  came  a  remembrance  of  another  time, 
■when  she  had  seen  that  face  glitter  with  daring  amid  fire  and  smoke  on  the 
battle  field  of  Gettysburg;  but  she  could  not  help  thinking  that  she  liked 
it  better  illuminated  by  the  light  of  peace  than  she  did  by  the  glitter  of  war. 

As  the  little  steamer  glided  awaj',  the  last  beams  of  the  sun  were  throwing 
a  subdued  glory  over  the  daik  blue  water  and  distant  hills,  while  amid  the 
dying  light  he  watched  Bertha's  beautiful  giilish  figure,  on  the  hurricane 
deck,  fade  from  view  in  the  gathering  gloom.  The  sun  had  already  sunk 
like  a  gn-at  ball  of  lefulgent  fire,  leaving  clouds  of  the  brightest  crimson, 
shading  into  the  daintiest  of  roses  amid  borders  of  purple  and  gold,  with  all 
the  changing  splendor  of  Alciuous's  golden-portaled  cities  in  his  empire  of 
the  clouds ! 

Niglit  had  closed  around,  and  the  little  figure  on  the  hurricane  deck  had 
faded  from  his  view  as  Laudon  turned  to  leave  the  lock,  as  he  tliought 
Badly:  "I've  little  hope  of  winning  back  the  old  place  in  her  heart — but  still: 
«*  'He  either  fejirs  his  fate  too  much, 
Or  his  deserts  ate  small. 
Who  fears  to  put  it  to  the  touch 
To  win  or  lose  it  all !'  " 


CHAPTEK   XX. 

UNDEB   THE   LIGHT   OF   PEACE. 
He  might  have  took  his  answer  loug  SLSo.—Shdkef^eare. 


A1VH,  the  heart  that  has  truly  loved,  never  forgets, 
^^     But  as  truly  loves  on  to  the  close, 
I  As  the  sun-flower  turns  on  her  god,  when  he  sets. 
The  same  look  which  she  turned  when  he  rose. 

—Moore. 


HE  next  day  was  clear  and  bright,  and  the  beautiful  country 
around  laj-  in  the  summer  sunshine,  as  a  vivid  picture  be- 
fore him,  with  its  darli  green  woods,  sloping  to  the  winding 
river,  while  the  rocky  hills  above,  at  whose  bases  lay  the  green 
meadows,  gradually  slanting  till  they  dipped  into  the  bright 
blue  waters  of  the  bay,  forming  a  fitting  frame  for  the  rose- 
embowered  cottages  of  the  village.  And  in  his  heart,  what  a  world  of 
memories  clung  around  those  familiar  scenes,  of  the  happy  days  gone  before. 
So  deeply  had  he  become  interested  in  the  old  scenes,  lit  by  their  sweet 
memories,  that  it  was  not  till  in  the  afternoon  that  he  returned  to  the  sea- 
side hotel.  After  lunch  he  lit  a  cigar,  and  strolling  into  the  park  attached 
to  the  hotel,  turned  into  a  path  that  led  through  a  tangle  of  wilil  roses  and 
thick  pines,  toward  the  river.  When  he  reached  the  end  of  the  path  he 
came  to  a  small  terrace  on  the  bank  of  the  river,  and  there,  to  his  surprise, 
on  a  rustic  bench,  beneath  the  shadow  of  an  oak,  Berlha  was  sitting.  He 
stopped  suddenly,  and  with  a  wildly  beating  heart,  leaning  against  a  tree 
behind  a  cluster  of  bushes  that  hid  him  from  view,  while  he  feasted  hisejes 
on  the  lovely  picture  she  formed,  as  she  sat  thoughtfully  gazing  into  the 
river. 

He  had   always  considered  her  pretty  in  the  happy  bygone  days  in  St. 
Arlyle,  but  the  succeeding  years  since  then,  had  lavishiugly  ripened  and 


lOS,  THROUGH    WAR   TO   PEACE. 

perfected  the  girlish  beauty  of  face  and  form,  till  now  she  was  more  than 
pretty — she  was  magnificenllj'  beautiful  in  all  the  full  splendor  of  a  woman's 
perfection  and  glory  !  From  the  small  arched  foot,  peeping  beneath  her 
robe,  to  the  crowning  mass  of  curlj'  hair  that  clustered  around  her  brow — 
which  had  growu  several  shades  darker  than  in  former  years,  but  which,  in 
its  contrast  with  her  pure  white  face,  only  added  to  her  beauty — she  ap- 
peared a  model  that  would  have  pleased  the  most  fastidious  artist's  taste. 
Her  face  was  as  clear  and  white  as  marble  and  almost  of  as  fine  a  texture ; 
her  lips  were  finely  moulded,  and,  when  they  parted,  showed  perfect  curves, 
of  carmine's  brightest  hue;  her  chm  was  dainty  and  dimpled;  the  cheeks 
were  finely  moulded,  with  a  shadowy  dimple  in  each;  while  the  straight, 
Grecian  nose,  with  its  delicate  red  nostrils,  would  have  served  for  a  sculptor's 
model.  The  large  liquid  eyes,  of  midnight's  dreamy  hue,  magnificently 
crowned  the  beauty  of  her  face,  while  the  long,  droopmg  lashes  that 
fringed  the  white  lids,  only  gave  a  deeper,  darker,  and  more  unfathomable 
splendor,  to  the  velvety  orbs !  But  yet  there  was  a  magic  spell  about  her 
face  that  even  overshadowed  its  loveliness — that  was  its  rare  sweetness ! 

But  as  he  turned  and  moved  toward  her  he  noticed  a  sad  expression  on 
her  sweet  young  face,  that  grieved  him  deeply.  She  did  not  notice  him  till 
he  stood  quite  close  to  her;  then,  as  she  turned  her  head,  the  sad,  far-away 
look  in  her  soft  dark  eyes  gave  place  to  one  of  surprise. 

"Ah,  my  lady,"  he  said,  pleasantly,  "building  castles  in  the  air?  Or  as 
the  French  say,  constructing  chateaux  des  Espagne?" 

"Oh,  no,"  she  replied,  smiling,  "1  have  been  painting  all  morning,  and 
came  out  in  the  open  air  to  enjoy  my  Dolce  far  iiiente.  But,"'  she  added, 
naively,  "  I'm  afraid  I  fell  into  thinking,  or,  perhaps,  dreaming  of  the  past!" 

"  Why  afraid?''  he  asked. 

"  Because,  though  pleasant  moments,  still  they  haunt,  but  to  remind 
that  they  did  not  last!" 

As  he  reached  her  side,  she  arose  and  held  out  her  hand,  as  her  heart  gave 
a  wild  throb  of  excitement,  and  her  face  grew  even  paler.  As  he  grasped 
her  extended  hand  he  could  not  help  noticing  how  lovely  her  face  looked 
in  its  marble-like  paleness,  framed  b^-  the  soft  brown  curls.  The  old  saucy 
arclmess  was  gone,  but  there  was  a  sad  sweetness  in  the  large  liquid  eyes, 
and  about  the  small  mouth  and  dimpled  cheek,  tliat  made  him  long  to  take 
her  in  his  arms  and  caress  her.  He  sat  down  beside  her,  and  thiew  his  hat 
on  the  bench  beside  her  with  a  boyish  carelessness,  as  she  noticed  that  his 
dark  hair  curled  in  ringlets  upon  his  white  brow,  just  as  she  had  loved  to 
watch  it  in  those  bygone  years.  There  war.  a  tinge  of  sadness  on  his  hand- 
some face,  despite  his  swet-t  boyish  flow  of  spirits,  showing  that  he,  too,  had 
suffered.  And  when  he  spoke,  it  was  in  an  awkward,  constrained  manner, 
contrasting  strangely  with  his  usual  open,  frank  way,  and  his  customary 
brilliant  and  natural  flow  of  language. 

After  a  moment's  silence,  he  plunged  into  his  subj^ect,  like  one  would 
plunge  into  a  stream,  where  he  was  not  sure  of  his  footing,  or  as  one  would 
do  who  had  a  matter  in  hand  that  he  was  eager  to  get  through  with,  and 
seemed  at  a  loss  how  to  begin. 


THROUGH    WAR     TO    PEACE.  109 

•'Miss  Merton,"  he  cominenced,  "I  wish  to  ask  a  favor  of  yoo.  Will 
you  grant  it?" 

"Certainly,"  she  replied,  noticing  his  embarrassment,  and  eager  to  help 
him,  "if  it  lies  in  my  power?" 

"  I  love  a  certain  young  lady,  and  will  you  help  me  win  her.  I  think  you 
can  aid  me  materially." 

"Yes,  if  my  humble  efforts  can  assist  you,"  she  replied,  dazed  and  bewil- 
dered, while  a  fearful  pain  seized  her  heart  that  made  her  struggle  for 
breath.  "Does  he  know?"  she  thought,  "what  he  is  asking?  Can  he 
imagine  the  pain  he  is  inflicting?  Has  he  no  mercy.  Oh,  how  desperately  I 
love  him.     May  Heaven  help  me  to  bear  it!" 

Then,  after  a  desperate  effort  to  control  her  feelings,  she  asked  in  a  voice 
almost  choked  with  tears : 

"Do  I  know  this  young  lady?     What  is  her  name?" 

"It  is  Bertha  Merton!'' 

Over  her  face  there  broke  a  light,  such  as  a  Raphael  or  a  Murillo  often 
dreamed  of  giving  an  angel,  but  never  fully  succeeded  in  leaving  on  canvas. 
A  tranquil,  joyous  light  that  rendered  her  face  grandly  beautiful.  He  saw 
the  sweet  light  of  joy  on  her  countenance,  and  his  tengue  became  suddenly 
free  and  words  rushed  rapidly  to  his  thoughts,  as  he  exclaimed : 

"  Bertha,  darling,  will  you  forgive  me?  I  know  1  don't  deserve  it!  But 
still  I  love  you  dearly  !  You,  and  you  only,  have  held  the  tenderest  spot  in 
my  heart's  affection,  and  it  has  never  flagged,  even  for  a  moment,  all  the  while 
we  were  at  cross-purposes.  I  tried  to  forget  you,  but  the  more  I  tried,  the 
more  my  heart  clung  to  you  !  '  For  the  heart  that  has  truly  loved  never  for- 
gets but  as  truly  loves  on  to  the  close.'  Will  you  forgive  me,  Bertie?  And  I 
promise  you  I'll  never  grow  jealous  again.  Not  even  doubt  you  for  a  mo- 
ment." 

"  Forgive  you,"  she  said,  with  a  smile,  as  there  came  over  her  a  feeling 
that  set  her  nerves  quivering  with  a  strange  sweet  rapture.  "There  is 
nothing  to  forgive!  And  if  there  were  I  should  say  in  the  words  of  good 
Dr.  Granville,  'The  noblest  lesson  I've  learned  in  life  is  to  forgive,  and,  as 
far  as  the  heart  can,  to  forget.'  But  it  would  be  an  easy  task  for  me  to 
forgive  you,  if  there  wore  anything  to  forgive,  for  my  heart  has  clung 
to  you  tenderly  through  all  these  years  in  spite  of  myself.  And  you  know," 
she  added,  laughingly,  "Leonidas,  the  bravest  of  the  Greeks,  was  compelled 
to  yield  when  the  enemy  gained  his  rear;  and  so  with  my  own  heart  against 
me,  and  your  own  noble  appeal  what  else  can  a  poor  girl  do,  but  surrender? 
But,"  she  added,  with  the  old  sauciness,  "are  you  sure  you  love  me  truly?" 

For  her  answer  he  took  her  in  his  arms  and  gently  kissed  her  rosy  lips 
for  the  first  time  in  many  a  long  day,  as  the  little  head  nestled  against  his 
shoulder,  while  the  hot  blood  suffused  her  cheeks  and  bosom,  till  they  riv- 
aled the  red  rose  on  her  breast. 

"So,"  he  said,  we  have  been  playing  at  cross  purposes  all  these  yea.rs 
But  as  the  old  proverb  says,  'As  gold  must  be  tried  by  fire,  so  hearts  must 
be  tried  by  pain,'  perhaps  it  was  Heaven's  way  of  teaching  un  the  lesson 
we  ought  to  have  learned  before — the  lesson  of  faith  and  trust.     And  let  us 


110  THROUGH    WAR   TO   PEACE. 

hope  that  our  hearts,  in  the  crucible  of  pain,  have  been  more  refined  and 
purified.  But,"  he  added  teasiugly,  "I  was  not  entirely  without  hope  ever 
since  that  day  you  slyly  kissed  me,  when  I  lay  wounded  on  the  battle  field 
at  Gettysburg,  and  you  thought  me  dying." 

"So  you  think  I  liissed  you,  when  you  lay  so  fearfully  wounded!"  she 
exclaimed,  with  all  the  old,  sweet  archness.  "  Why,  what  an  absurd  fancy! 
Why,  the  very  idea  is  preposterous!  What  a  conceited  fellow  you  are! 
But- then,"  she  ndded,  noticing  the  quizzical  expression  on  his  countenance, 
"you  were  so  badly  wounded  that  your  mind  wandered,  and  you  imagined 
many  ridiculous  things.  But  as  to  kissing  you,  it  is  the  most  delightfully 
unreasonable  fancy  in  the  world !  I  can't  even  imagine  how  you  obtained 
such  a  wild,  absurd,  droll  and  ridiculous  idea!  Why,  your  mind  must  have 
been  wandering  in  the  most  visionary  of  dream  lands !" 

"I  see,"  he  said,  laughingly,  "you  are  determined  to  J.eny  that  kiss.  But 
the  thought  of  it  has  been  sweet  to  me  ever  since ;  though  perhaps  my  mind 
did  wander." 

"Of  course  it  did  !  You  know  it  did!  What  a  foolish,  inconsistent  idea 
it  was !" 

As  she  finished  speaking,  she  took  up  her  hat,  with  its  long  white  feather, 
and  placed  it  jauntily  on  her  little  curly  head. 

"Ah,"  he  said,  banteringly,  "1  see  you've  changed  the  scarlet  plume  for 
a  white  one." 

"Yes,"  she  replied,  with  the  old  sweet  archness  he  remembered  so  well, 
"I've  had  a'  tuste  of  war  and  learned  the  full  value  of  tranquility,  so 
"I've  changed  the  crimson  plume  of  battle  for  the  virgin  white  of   peace!" 

"True,"  lie  replied,  smiling,  "as  the  old  Roman  proverb  says,  Dulce 
beUiim  ine.vperto — war  is  sweet  to  him  who  has  not  tried  it.  And  I  have 
found  it  so,  for  my  experience  in  four  years  of  strife  has  only  taught  me 
to  hate  war  the  mote,  and  love  peace  the  better." 

"By  the  way,  Bertie,"  he  continued,  after  a  moment's  silence,  "what  be- 
came of  the  blue  mob  uap,  with  gold  band,  you  wore  so  long  on  the  tented 
field?" 

"Oh,  my  foraging  cap,  as  you  used  to  call  it.  I  lost  it,  I  think,  at  Gettys- 
burg." 

"  Yes,  I  think  you  did,"  he  said,  roguishly,  as  he  drew  the  cap  from  his 
pocket. 

"Why,"  she  exclaimed,  "that's  the  identical  foraging  cap!  The  olHcers 
of  your  regiment  presented  it  to  me  and  I  wore  it  in  their  honor.  I  know 
it  was  rather  gaudy.  But  then,"  she  added,  with  a  sly  glance  at  General 
Landon,  "where  men  wore  blue  uniforms  with  crimson  sashes,  not  to  take 
into  consideration  gilt  buttons  and  gay  epaulettes — why  a  girl  was  justified 
in  being  a  little  bit  flashy,  too  !" 

"Why  certainly  she  nad,  providing "  and  he  stopped. 

"Providing  what?"  she  asked,  demurely. 

"Providing  she  didn't  kiss  wounded  soldiers." 

"1  tell  you,"  she  said,  saucily,  with  a  stamp  of  her  little  foot,  "your 
mind  was  wandering  when  you  imagined  such  an  absurd  thing!  Why,  the 
very  idea  is  jte.rfecihj  preposterous!" 

They  arose  from  the  rustic  bench,  and  arm  in  arm,  strolled  up  the  path 


THROUGH    WAR   TO  FEACE.  Ill 

along  the  river,  beneath  the  shade  of  the  trees  and  trailing  vines.     As  they 
came  in  view  of  the  bridge,  across  the  river,  Bertha  said : 

"They  have  built  a  new  bridge,  but  otherwise  the  i)lace  is  little  changed. 
The  old  oak  is  still  standing,  throwing  its  shade,  as  in  years  gone  by." 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  teasingly,  "they  have  built  a  new  one,  to  prevent  young 
ladies  on  horseback  from  falling  into  the  river." 

"  It  may  be,"  she  said  demurely,  "but  I  don't  think  they  need  have  trou- 
bled themselves  about  that.  For  most  young  ladies  are  capable  of  taking 
care  of  themselves — at  least,"  she  added,  slyly,  "I  know  of  one." 

When  they  reached  the  bridge,  they  walked  partly  across  it  till  they  reached 
ttie  shade  of  the  old  oak,  and  then,  leaning  upon  the  railing,  stood  side  by 
side,  gazing  into  the  stream  for  several  moments  in  silence,  watoliing  the 
shming  trout  dart  about  in  the  clear  waters  of  the  river,  when  suddenlv 
Bertha  looked  up  and  repeated  archly  the  poet's  familiar  lines: 
♦•  I  see  the  bright  trout  springing. 
Where  the  wave  is  dark  yet  clear. 
And  a  myriad  flies  are  winging, 
As  if  to  tempt  him  near." 

"Finish  the  stanza,  my  little  lady,"  he  said,  sportively, 

"I  don't  remember  the  rest,"  she  answered,  smiling. 

"Then  I'll  repeat  it  for  you,"  he  said,  good-humoredlyt 
"With  the  lucid  waters  blending, 
The  willow  shade  yet  floats, 
From  beneath  whose  quiet  bendings 
1  used  to  launch  my  boats." 

They  crossed  the  bridge  and  almost  instinctively  turned  their  steps  toward 
Bertha  s  old  homo.  As  they  walked  up  the  hill  together,  on  that  beautiful 
eummer  afternoon,  with  their  hearts  beating  wildly  happy,  there  arose  a 
flood  of  memories  almost  too  deep  for  words.  Memories  sweet  of  those 
happy  bj-gone  days  that  they  had  passed  together  in  the  little  village ;  days 
that  ever  seemed  bathed  in  radiant  sunshine,  that  each  familiar  spot  and 
hill  in  St.  Arlyle  brought  vividly  back  to  their  mental  view ;  blissful  years, 
when  she  took  her  flrst  lessons  in  science  and  he  learned  his  first  In  love ! 
Peaceful  years,  but  to  be  succeeded  by  those  sad,  thrilling  years  of  war,  out 
of  which  arose,  as  if  by  magic,  the  well  remembered  faces  and  forms  of 
those  who  were  sleeping  under  the  sod  on  the  battle  fields  of  the  sunny 
South.  Sad  ana  thrilling  scenes,  that  touched  their  very  hearts'  core,  till 
the  walls  of  their  memories  seemed  so  written  over — so  crossed  and  re- 
crossed  by  the  events  of  the  years  that  had  fled,  that  there  seemed  no  room 
for  the  thoughts  of  the  present. 

When  they  reached  the  brow  of  the  hill,  they  met  Colonel  Tom  Gleaton, 
and  as  he  extended  a  hand  to  each,  he  said,  in  his  old,  impulsive  way : 

"Ah,  the  Heracleids  have  returned  at  last !" 

"Yes,"  replied  Bertha,  smiling,  "but  it  has  not  taken  us  quite  three  gen- 
erations to  do  it,  as  it  did  the  Greeks  of  old." 

"  True,"  said  Gleaton,  "the  fates  were  propitious  this  time.  And,"  he 
added,  with  a  sly  glance  at  each,  "I  think  no  plague  will  follow." 


112  THROUGH    WAR    TO    PEACE. 

"Why,"  said  Landon,  "have  you  consulted  the  Oracle  of  Delphi?" 

"  No,"  he  siiid  quickly,  aud  with  an  artfulness  that  caused  the  warm  blood 
to  suffuse  both  their  faces,  "  I've  consulted  the  Oracle  of  Cupid  !" 

"  By  the  way,"  said  Bertha,  addressing  Colonel  Gleaton,  and  demurely 
and  dexterously  changing  the  subject,  "I  understand  you  have  entered  the 
field  of  journalism?     How  do  you  like  it?" 

"  Very  well  indeed  1  It  gives  me  a  chance  to  perpetrate  a  would-be  joke 
iu  print." 

"  Tliey  are  more  than  would-be  jokes,"  said  Landon.  "  You  have  writtea 
eome  good  things." 

♦'I  hope  so,"  he  replied: 

"  'For  a  little  fun  now  and  then, 
Is  relished  by  the  best  of  men.' " 

As  Gleaton  finished  speaking,  he  turned  around,  and  asthey  strolled  along 
their  conversation  naluially  turned  to  the  missing  links  in  the  village's  little 
common  wealth — those  who  had  fallen  in  the  Civil  War — as  Colonel  Gleaton 
said : 

"You  remember  poor  Tom  Kelly's  death  and  burial,  near  the  banks  of 
the  Poloraac  Eiver?  Well,  not  long  since,  we  had  his  last  resting  place 
marked  by  a  stone  with  the  proper  inscriptions  cut  on  it.  As  you, undoubt- 
edly recall,  he  was  the  first  of  our  St.  Arlyle  men  to  fall  in  battle." 

"Yes,"  said  General  Landon,  "he  was  a  wild,  erratic  fellow,  but  he  fully 
deserves  all  the  tributes  we  can  give  him,  for  he  had  a  warm  Irish,  heart, 
and  he  leli  bravely  in  the  defense  of  his  country,  at  duty's  post." 

"True,"  said  Bertha,  "he  had  his  faults;  but  who  has  not?  But,  poor 
fellow,  he  was  always  a  firm  and  true  friend  to  me!  And,"  she  added 
warmly,  "I  shall  ever  hold  a  tender  place  in  my  heart  for  his  memory !" 

"Yes,"  said  General  Landon,  "as  we  look  back  to  the  old  days  of  the 
war,  and  i-ecall  its  martyrs,  Jeremiah  Marshall,  noble  Dr.  Granville,  aud 
sweet  May  Wilberton;  his  is  ever  among  the  familiar  faces  that  arise  like 
an  apparition  through  the  haze  of  history  that  is  beginning  to  gather  around 
the  men  and  events  of  that  troublous  time  !" 

"  True,"  said  Bertha,  "at  the  mention  of  their  names,  their  well  known 
faces  seemed  to  beam  upon  us  as  they  used  to  do  in  life.  But  let  us  think," 
she  added,  tenderly,  "that  they  are  all  at  rest  in  God's  kingdom  beyond  the 
skies  ;  that  erratic  Tom  Kelly  has  been  called  from  the  post  of  dutj'  to  ranks 
of  peace  in  heaven ;  that  Jeremiah  Marshall  has  found — after  his  sad  and 
troublous  life — the  everlasting  rest  he  longed  so  often  to  find;  and  that 
noble,  generous  Dr.  Granville  has  found  the  reward  he  so  truly  deserved; 
and  that  sweet,  gentle  May,  too,  is  waiting  among  the  blest!" 

"  But  there  is  one  name,"  said  General  Landon,  "of  those  old  days,  that 
of  James  Shackle,  I'm  afraid  I  never  can  recall  without  an  anathema.  For 
Btrtha,"  he  continued,  "he  came  too  near  ruining  your  life  and  mine,  for  me 
ever  to  easily  forgive  him  !" 

In  Bertha's  large  liquid  eyes  there  came  a  sweet  forgiving  tenderness,  as 
she  said  :  "  Let  us  not  condemn  him  too  harshly,  for  perhaps  the  great  trou- 
bles and  trials  he  had  passed  through  had  overbalanced  his  mind,  and  he 


THROUGH    WAR    TO   PEACE.  113 

was  not  really  accountable  for  his  later  actions.       Anyhow,  she  added,  "we 
in  our  great  happiness  can  easily  afford  to  forgive  him!'' 

"Ah  Bertha,"  said  Charles,  smiling,  "spoken  like  your  own  true,  noble 
self — ever  forj<iving  and  forgetting!" 

When  they  reached  the  garden  gate  of  Bertha's  old  home,  the  star- 
spangled  banner  was  floating  from  the  tall  flag-pole  in  front  of  it;  for  it  was 
the  Nation's  birthday.  And  as  they  watched  the  gentle  breeze  waft  out 
in  the  balmy  sunlight,  the  gay  folds  of  the  bonny  red,  white  and  blue.  Ber- 
tha said  : 

"  The  old  flag  floats  as  proudly  as  if  it  had  never  been  riddled  by  shot  and 
shell  in  internal  strife." 

"  Yes,"  said  Gleaton,  in  his  facetious  way,  "  I  never  see  the  old  flag,  but 
it  reminds  me  of  bullets  and  balls  coming  in  my  direction." 

"Or,"  said  Bertha,  mischievously,  "riding  off  the  battlefleld  on  a  cannon.' 

"Perhaps,"  he  said,  smiling  good-humoredly,  though  the  joke  was  at  his 
expense,  "but  I  hope,"  he  added,  "those  days  are  over  forever." 

"God  grant  that  they  are,"  said  Charles  Landon,  earnestly,  "and  that 
unlike  the  nations  that  have  gone  before,  suicide  may 'never  be  the  fate  of 
the  American  Eepublic !" 

And  kind  reader,  let  us  too  hope,  that  if  war  comes  in  this  passing  gener- 
ation, it  will  And  the  Blue  and  the  Gray  in  the  same  line  of  battle,  fighting 
side  by  side,  a  common  foe  ! 

As  Landon  finished  speaking,  Gleaton  turned  down  the  hill,  while  Charles 
and  Bertha  entered  the  gate  haml  in  hand,  and  in  the  waning  light  of  that 
glorious  summer  afternoon,  strolled  along  a  familiar  rose-bordered  path, 
and  there,  gentle  reader — whilst  his  arm  is  encircling  her  dainty  waist,  and 
her  dark  golden  head  is  nestling  on  his  shoulder — we  leave  them,  under  the 
sway  of  the  greatest  magic  wand  of  all— </(e  tram^forrixing  light  of  love! 
So  their  hearts,  like  their  country's  flag,  had  passed  through  War  to  Peace! 


THE  END. 


